


Changing Fate

by blackwatchandromeda



Series: Misadventures in Chronology (Overwatch) [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Blackwatch Sombra, Blackwatch Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Canon Universe, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Fall of Overwatch, Fate & Destiny, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Overwatch - Freeform, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Redemption, Secrets, Time Travel, canon is on the distant horizon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2018-12-15 18:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11811339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackwatchandromeda/pseuds/blackwatchandromeda
Summary: In which Tracer, Sombra, Widowmaker, Reaper and McCree are flung back eight years in time after Tracer's chronal accelerator malfunctions badly.





	1. Chapter 1

_Oasis, 2077_

"What _is_ it?" Tracer whispers, almost reverently.

"Damned if I know," McCree answers, gazing up at the pulsing black matter hovering above them.

They've been in Oasis for a few hours now, charged with escorting a noted scientist's work from one end of the city to the other. He's a pioneer in his field, Angela told them, the field of nanotechnology: specifically, nanites. It's just the two of them on this assignment, due to the huge number of other missions going on simultaneously, although Winston's monitoring them on comms.

"Alright, agents," comes the gorilla's voice. "The nanites should already be boxed up."

"That what they are?" McCree asks doubtfully.

Tracer says, "They're packed up, Winston, but how are we moving 'em?"

The gorilla is silent for a moment. "Uh... carry them?"

McCree rolls his eyes.

"If you... to the Gardens."

"What was that, Winston?"

Winston's voice crackles. "Lena... hear me?"

"Winston, luv, you're breaking up," Tracer tells him loudly, as if hoping volume will make her words get through to the gorilla.

Static comes back through the other end.

"Winston?" Tracer calls, frowning.

"Something's blocking the signal," McCree says.

Suddenly, there's a growl from the other end of the room, and both Overwatch agents spin round to see two figures standing before them. McCree pulls out Peacekeeper at the same time as Reaper draws his twin shotguns, and both Sombra and Tracer grab their guns.

"We're not here to fight," Sombra says quickly.

McCree cocks the revolver. "Oh, really? That why you came with guns?"

Sombra rolls her eyes and pushes Reaper's shotguns down so they point at the floor, and he hisses at her. "If you let us take the research, we'll leave peacefully, _vaquero_."

Tracer's face darkens. "Don't even think about it. You're not stealing anything else."

"Still annoyed about my translocator?" Sombra asks mock-sympathetically, tilting her head to one side. "Aww, _pobrecita_."

Tracer glares at the hacker. "We're not letting you take it."

Reaper growls, "Either you let us, or we kill you and then steal it."

Tracer doesn't move, eyes locked on the Talon agents. "No."

"I am _not_ in the mood for this," Reaper mutters, voice dark and hissing. He strides up to Tracer in one fluid motion, and his hand reaches for her torso. Reaper's talons close around her accelerator, and then he crushes it in his fist and Tracer lets out a scream as the room flashes bright blue and she collapses.

"Lena!" McCree shouts, and runs towards Reaper, firing a shot straight into his heart. Smoke dissolves and reforms behind him, and the wraith laughs as the cowboy spins round.

"You can't kill me, ingrate," he hisses.

McCree raises Peacekeeper again, but suddenly bright light blinds his eyes and he curses, turning to see Tracer's accelerator giving off a strong blue aura.

Sombra stands frozen by Tracer's writhing form, staring down. "Reaper..."

"What?" the wraith growls.

"We need to go."

McCree snarls, "You ain't going anywhere." He levels his Peacekeeper at Sombra, but she just smirks and gestures to her right as the air ripples and a purple-clad woman fades into view.

"Never threaten someone with backup, _chérie_ ," says Widowmaker, pointing her rifle's scope directly at McCree. He curses.

They stand there for a moment, Reaper and Tracer off to one side with McCree caught between the other two Talon agents, before there's a humming noise and the blue grows brighter. Tracer whimpers as her accelerator makes a cracking sound, and sparks fly to the floor.

"What the hell is happening?" growls Reaper.

Sombra yells, "That's what I was talking about, _pinche_! We have to get out of here!"

McCree says urgently, "Lena, can you hear me?"

There's no reply, save for the humming growing even louder.

"Sombra is correct," Widowmaker hisses. "Something is... not right. We need to leave."

"I am not leaving here without the research," Reaper snarls right back.

"Fuck the research!" Sombra shouts, and she storms out of the room. As soon as she gets to the doorway, though, the hacker stops dead. "¿ _Qué_? I can't... I can't get past this," she frowns, splaying her hand on the crackling blue wall that now surrounds the entire room.

McCree abandons all attempt at hostilities, and runs over to Tracer. "Lena, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," she chokes out. "I... s' my accelerator, Jesse."

"What is?" he asks, frowning.

Her eyes widen. "No, it's... I don't know what's happening, no -"

Tracer lets out a scream as she vanishes from sight.

McCree stumbles back. "What the fuck?"

Sombra is looking visibly shaken now, and Reaper pulls out his shotguns. "Tell me what's happening _right now_ , ingrate, or you die."

"This isn't me!" the cowboy yells. "I have no _fuckin' clue_ what's going on!"

Widowmaker is silent as she approaches the area where Tracer was. "She can't be gone. If Sombra couldn't get past the barrier, neither can she. We just have to find her." The assassin crouches low to the ground, and then she makes a startled noise. "It... it's burning."

"What?"

"The air. I feel it..." She trails off, and the others watch in horror as her eyes widen. " _Non, non_ -"

Widowmaker disappears with a cry, and Reaper growls. "Sombra, track her."

The hacker taps at the air, pulling holographic purple screens up before her. "She's... she's not here. Moving to global view." She pinches her fingers together, and her eyes widen. "She's not there either."

"How is that _possible_?" Reaper hisses. "Is it broken?"

"It's not!" Sombra protests. "I designed it myself. There's no way it could be malfunctioning. It's like she's just dropped off the entire Earth!"

"Uh, guys..." McCree interrupts her, staring down at his hands. "I think I know what the others meant when they said..." He grimaces. "Burnin'."

One second he's there, the next he's gone, and Sombra flattens herself against the wall, eyes wide.

"Oh, _mierda_ ," she breathes. "Gabe, what do we do?"

"I don't know." The wraith's growl is less pronounced than usual, and he stares at the blue wall encircling them with something approaching fear.

Sombra sets her jaw. "I think it's me next." To her credit, she barely makes a noise as she vanishes from sight.

Then it's the Reaper's turn, and the burning feeling, like red ants scurrying across his skin, consumes him as blue engulfs his vision.

 

 

_Zurich, 2069_

"Gabe. Gabe, are you listening?"

Gabriel Reyes' eyes fly open and he jerks slightly in his chair.

Opposite him, Jack Morrison frowns. "Are you okay?"

" _Jack_?" Gabriel breathes, staring at him with disbelief. The blond Strike-Commander is still that - blond - and the twisting scar across his face is gone. He's even wearing that long, azure coat and his Overwatch uniform. Gabriel stands up, and his voice hardens. "What are you doing here?"

Jack stares at him, utterly confused. "You asked me here. To go over the London mission."

Gabriel's mouth twists. "Get out." This man in front of him can't be Jack, but he looks exactly like him; exactly like the man who betrayed him and forgot about him.

" _What_? Reyes -"

"Go!" Gabriel yells, and Jack's face settles into a flat line of anger. He storms out of the door without another word, and Gabriel collapses back in his chair, staring at his surroundings.

He's in a dark grey room with highlights of red, sitting behind a clunky black glass desk. There are photos on top of it: a portrait of him, Ana and Jack, and a picture of a teenager in a cowboy hat. Gabriel frowns. These were lost when Zurich exploded. So how are they... here?

His brow creases even further when something on the desk flashes, and his gaze flicks to it.

_MESSAGE FROM: Gérard Lacroix_  
_SENT: 11/26/69 10:33  
SUBJECT: Lijiang recon_

Gabriel's jaw drops as he stares at it. Gérard is _dead_. The name glares straight back at him, sending spikes of confusion through him.

"What the hell is going on?" he growls.

"Commander Reyes, I'm detecting high levels of anxiety in your tone. Do you need me to contact Doctor Ziegler?" comes a cool female voice, and Gabriel nearly jumps out of his skin because he recognises that sound and it's _Athena_ , the AI that used to govern all the Watchpoints.

"Athena, is that you?" he asks cautiously.

"Yes, Commander Reyes."

Gabriel sets his jaw. "Where are we?"

"We are in the Overwatch Headquarters in Zurich, Switzerland," comes the reply, and Gabriel doubles over like he's been punched in the gut.

_What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_

He chokes out, "What day is it?"

"It is the twenty-sixth of November, 2069."

Gabriel has a hand to his mouth, and he's shaking. He can't be back here. He has less than a year before it all goes to shit, if it really is 2069. He can't live through it again. He can't. Gabriel stares downwards, seeing how much his hand trembles.

And that's when he realises the biggest change from what only feels like ten minutes ago, fighting Tracer and McCree in the middle of Oasis. He can see his hand, his whole hand, and below that his body clothed in the Blackwatch uniform.

He is whole, and _somehow_ he is no longer made of smoke.

Gabriel drops to his knees in the middle of his old office.

 

 

_Dorado, 2069_

"Sombra, ¿ _eres buena_?"

Sombra moans as she comes to, stabbing pain shooting through her head. "Go away, Gabe," she shouts into the mattress.

"Who the hell is Gabe?" comes a familiar voice.

Sombra's eyes fly open, and she sits up.

The first thing she sees is purple. Not the monotony of every Talon room, but glowing purple. Her eyes scan the room, noting every computer screen and file laying littered around. On the far wall, there's an interconnected web of people and names and places. Opposite her lies a desk covered in banks of screens, with a packet of Doritos lying on top.

This is her old room, back in Dorado.

Sombra stands up, dusting herself down slightly, seeing that she's wearing the kind of clothes she used to wear in Los Muertos: a more fluorescent version of her Talon outfit.

"Sombra," comes an annoyed-sounding call from outside.

"Coming!" she yells, and crosses the room to her computers. She taps at the keyboard a few times, logging in, and then pulls up her settings.

_Set Date/Time: 11 26 2069 10:35_

" _Mierda_ ," she mutters. The Oasis fight comes back to her, Reaper ripping out Tracer's accelerator, and the blue field that appeared. Sombra narrows her eyes. Somehow the accelerator must have sent her back in time, to 2069. It explains why she seems to be back in Los Muertos, at the very least. She's less freaked out about having _traveled in time_  than she would think; it's probably because, now that she knows what's going to happen, she can retrace her actions. She can do them _better_.

 _Are the others here?_ she wonders.

"Sombra! ¿ _Qué eres haciendo_?" There's an impatient rap on her door.

Sombra huffs, and gets up to pull open her door. "What?" she asks, exasperated.

On the other side of the door, a dark-haired man with sun-kissed skin and twin skull tattoos on his shoulders is standing with crossed arms. "You alright in there, _hermanita_? Raul says you haven't taken the protocols down yet."

Sombra stares at him, and the guy's name comes back to her. Miguel. He died in a raid just before she left, she remembers. "Uh... yeah, I'm fine." She laughs. "What protocols?"

Miguel frowns. "You know, Portero's mansion? The cameras? The defences?"

Sombra nods, trying to remember this heist. It doesn't end well. "Oh, yeah. Thanks," she says, and promptly closes the door and skids back to her computer banks.

She types in a few commands, hacking quickly into Portero's surveillance - after her work in Talon this is a joke of a system - and taking it offline. That'll keep the gang members off her back.

"Now," Sombra murmurs to herself, as she opens her browser. "Where do I go to find the rest of you?"

_SEARCH: OVERWATCH HEADQUARTERS_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no clue why I decided to start another multichapter fic, but here it is! constructive criticism/comments of any kind are welcomed, they warm my soul and keep me writing <3
> 
> i'd like to reference overgosh on tumblr real quick; they've done an amazing job collating all the lore blizzard gives us into a fantastic timeline which i'm using to help keep track of all the events. thank you so much!
> 
> thanks for giving this a go and i hope you enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

_Colorado, 2069_

Jesse McCree wakes with his face pressed to the floor. He grunts as he pushes himself up, shaking off the tiredness that's spread like a blanket over him.

"Welcome back," comes a female voice, and Jesse frowns, blinking as he rubs his aching temple. A redheaded woman is smirking at him from across the small, dim room they're in. "You feeling alright? Got hit pretty hard back there."

Jesse frowns, eyes flicking around the space. "Where am I?" The last thing he remembers is the feeling of red ants all over his skin, and the bright light that hit him after Tracer's accelerator malfunctioned. He wonders if she's alive.

The woman stares at him. "The surveillance house, McCree." She twists round and calls over her shoulder, "Bourne, get in here."

 _Bourne_? Jesse's frown deepens. There used to be a Bourne in Blackwatch, but he disappeared right before Zurich exploded. Jesse assumed he was one of those who defected to Talon, like the ones he ran into on the hypertrain. He must be in Talon's custody, then. But, when he looks down, he doesn't see a single restraint on him. Jesse's hand strays to his belt. It's empty - even the holster's missing.

"What up, Sangre?" comes a voice, and Jesse looks up to see Bourne leaning in the doorway.

"He's awake," the redhead says, and gestures. "Confused."

Bourne nods and grabs something from his pocket. "Let's check you out." There's a click and he holds up a small torch, shining it right in Jesse's eyes. "What's your name?"

"Jesse McCree," Jesse answers, eyeing the man. He doesn't know what's going on, but it's not dangerous at the moment. Better to wait and gather information; Gabriel taught him that.

"Where are we?"

"I don't know."

Bourne hums. "Alright. What day is it?"

Jesse furrows his brow. "Uh..." Truth be told, he has no idea. Recall missions are getting so hectic that he can't keep track of the long stakeouts and twenty-four-hour operations.

"Can you give me the month?" Bourne prompts. "The year?"

"August. 2077," Jesse replies. This one he knows.

Sangre sighs. "Looks like you got hit harder than we thought, kid. I'll radio in."

"Good," says Bourne, pocketing the flashlight. He fixes Jesse with a stare. "Try not to move too much. Just rest, alright? Should help the concussion."

"I don't - Who the hell are you?" Jesse asks, confused and agitated now. He doesn't understand what's going on, why he doesn't recognise what's happening.

The apparent medic says, "I'm Bourne, and that's Sangre. We're Blackwatch agents, same as you."

"Blackwatch doesn't exist," Jesse says, heart beating faster.

Bourne sighs. "Try and get some rest, McCree. We've radioed for extraction. You'll be back in headquarters soon."

With that, he gets up and walks back over to Sangre, leaving Jesse stunned on the floor. He shifts, and something digs into his thigh. The cowboy frowns, reaching for his right side and finding his gun slotted into its holster. He pulls it out, staring at his old Blackwatch revolver on the side he used to keep it years ago. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

A vague thought occurs to Jesse then, and his breath catches in his throat as he lifts up his left arm. He stares at the brown skin, the whole limb, the lack of prosthetic. His arm's no longer missing, and Jesse's heart thumps in his head, unable to comprehend it.

_What the fuck is going on?_

_Annecy, 2069_

_Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum._

Her heartbeat is wrong. It's too fast, too regular, too _tangible_. It hasn't been like that for years.

Amélie Lacroix opens her eyes, and the first thing she sees is white. White curtains, cracked open slightly in the centre, a shaft of gold light streaming through and falling onto the wooden floor. Two pale armchairs, vaguely familiar to her, are positioned in the corner of the room, with a small table between them. She's lying on her side on soft material, and slowly she registers something encircling her waist. Amélie looks down, seeing a pair of arms embracing her, and she nearly screams, scrambling up and out of the bed, spinning round to see its other occupant. She stands there, horror pulsing through her veins, and stares at the man in the bed. His hair is mussed from sleep, although his moustache is neat as ever. As Amélie stares, he shifts, murmuring her name.

"Come back to bed, _chérie_ ," Gérard Lacroix says sleepily.

" _Non_ ," Amélie half-whispers, taking a step back. " _Non_ , this is not real." Her heartbeat pounds mockingly in her ears, and she almost collapses to the floor, so overwhelmed by the fear that floods her suddenly. She can't remember the last time she felt fear -

Gérard props himself up on an elbow, rubbing his eyes. "What's wrong?" Amélie just balls her fists, taking a shaky breath in, and the assassin stares at his wife, concerned. "Amélie, are you alright?"

"You're dead," she chokes out, unable to stop herself. She fumbles, pinching herself, and the pain pierces through her. She doesn't wake up. _This is not a dream_.

Gérard's face transitions from confusion to sympathy, and his expression softens. "Oh, _chérie_ , are you still having those dreams?"

Amélie freezes. " _Quoi_?"

He gets up from the bed and comes over, and she stiffens as he lays his hands on her shoulders. "I'm alright, _mon_ _coeur_. I promise it won't happen again. It's alright. _Ne t'inquiète pas, chérie_."

Amélie has no idea what to do in that moment; she just stands there, utterly confused, heart thumping unsteadily in her ears. The sensation makes her sick. Gérard pulls her towards him and she stumbles as he wraps her arms around her.

_This is not real. This cannot be real. I killed you._

Shrill ringing shatters the silence and Amélie jumps as her heartbeat flares and Gérard releases her.

He picks up the receiver laid on the delicate beside table. "Hello?" A frown spreads across his features. "Now?"

Amélie takes a deep breath, her heartbeat still thundering in her ears. Somehow, she is back with Gérard. Before she killed him, before she joined Talon, before everything. She needs to find someone who can help her, someone from her present. The real present, and not this façade that's making her sick from the beat in her ears.

 _Gabriel_.

Amélie balls her fists slightly as Gérard replaces the receiver. "I'm sorry, chérie, but I have to go in today. There's been an emergency."

"It's no problem," she says sweetly, the words burning. "Could I... come with you today?"

A brief look of shock crosses his face before it melts into a grin. "Of course, _chérie_."

Amélie smiles at him, though the expression feels uncomfortable. _You had better have an explanation ready, Gabriel._

_Everywhere, Forever_

White light swirls around her and she reaches out to brush her nonexistent fingers in the current. Awareness stretches across the continuum and a man who is old and young and everything in between appears, flying beside her before he shrivels to nothing. She is nothing and nobody, disassociated in time. The white streaks into icy blue suddenly, tendrils of colour reaching towards her. They fasten around her legs and she cries out without sound, and they drag her down faster and faster. The next thing she knows she's flying away from the white light, and Lena Oxton gasps as she's pulled into reality and flung to the floor.

She spreads her hands out, feeling the hard, real substance of the concrete, rising unsteadily to her feet, dizzy with the effect of the slipstream. It takes a few moments for her brain to decipher what she's seeing: blank floor, glowing aqua walls, and a pane of glass separating her from a bank of computer screens. Beside the displays a hulking figure turns round, and Lena lets out a delighted squeal as she recognises Winston standing there. The memory of the accelerator's malfunction comes back to her, and she realises Winston has saved her again. She beams and launches towards the scientist, flattening herself against the glass.

"Winston! Oh, luv, I'm so glad to see you again -" She cuts off, smile fading as she sees the scientist stiffen. "Winston?"

He clears his throat, and Lena backs away from the glass. "Pilot Oxton, I... uh, I'm fairly sure we haven't met before."

Lena's grin vanishes entirely, and she stares around the room. Surely Winston just found her from wherever she was lost in the timestream? She recognises the room from where Winston originally saved her after the Slipstream accident, the walls functioning as huge accelerators to pull her out of the sickeningly disorienting continuum. She's back in the present, in -

 _Oh_.

The blood drains from Lena's face as she catches sight of one of the computer displays behind Winston, displaying a clock and a date. 11/26/69. She stares in disbelief.

_Is this the first time I was brought back?_

Winston is still eyeing her. "Are you alright? Can you remember your name?"

"Uh, yes," Lena says uncertainly. "Pilot Lena Oxton. Is this... you're sure we haven't met before?"

The scientist gives a firm nod. "I've been working on a fix for your... condition ever since I heard about you." He points to one of the brightly-glowing walls, and Lena looks back at them. "Do you remember what happened?"

"The Slipstream broke," she tells him. "I got stranded in time and you brought me back using chronal technology."

A look of pure surprise crosses the gorilla's face. "Uh -"

"Listen," Lena says urgently. "I know you, and I know you'll believe this 'cos I have proof. This has all happened before."

Winston frowns, adjusting his glasses. "Go on."

The diminutive pilot looks him straight in the eye. "You got me back successfully, but in 2077 my accelerator broke and I went back in the timestream and now I'm here."

" _Your_ accelerator? I highly doubt it's possible to have a portable one -"

"You worked that out," Lena interrupts. "Something about... quantum whatsit. But anyway, I need your help because I'm in the _wrong time_."

Winston's eyes widen slightly. "I, uh... I'm not sure I can help you. Are you sure you're in the, uh, wrong time?"

Lena huffs in frustration. "You have an obsession with peanut butter, you came from the moon and you named Athena after your favourite god."

Winston splutters. "I... how did you know that? Nobody knows that!"

" _I_ do, luv. I'm your friend." She sighs. "Just take me to see... I don't know, Morrison's still around, right?"

The scientist blinks, and frowns. "Strike Commander Morrison, yes. But... I'm sorry, Pilot Oxton, you are unable to leave this room."

The pilot looks down at her accelerator-less chest. "Oh, bollocks."

"What did your personal accelerator look like?" Winston asks suddenly, and Lena frowns.

"Uh, it was a triangle shape. With blue light circles in the middle. And it had a bomb on the back."

"A _bomb_?"

"Nah, ignore the bomb. Just get me out of here, please."

Winston turns back to the screens. "I did have a few prototype designs for smaller versions, but I doubt any of them are viable." He makes a gesture and a collection of images spreads itself over the display. He swipes over a spherical orb and an odd-looking harness, as well a blueprint of several small cubes. Lena stares intently at the screen, and lets out a yelp as a familiar, if first-gen, image of her accelerator pops up.

"This one?" Winston pauses.

Lena nods. "Yeah, that's it!"

"Interesting," he murmurs. "Athena, run uncertainty model."

"Running uncertainty model," comes a robotic voice, and Lena has to restrain her grin at hearing another familiar person. "The result is eighty-four percent, Winston."

Winston frowns. "Hmm. That's too high to be viable."

Lena pauses for a moment. "You always talked about... damn, what was it?" She racks her brain for the memory. "Cubits, or something."

"You mean qubits?" Something lights up in the scientist's eyes. "That... could work."

He taps at the screen, typing for a brief moment before the display detaches and forms a three-dimensional hologram. Winston rubs his chin as he sketches something with his finger and it shimmers into holographic reality. The scientist drags it towards the front of the accelerator model, and it glows briefly as it locks into place, completing the design.

"Run uncertainty again, please, Athena."

There's a beat of silence. "Uncertainty is now twenty-three percent."

Winston's eyes widen. "Compile and insert Qubit Protocol."

The holographic accelerator flares to life, blue rings enlarging to spin in gentle rotation around the centre of the device. Winston lets out an astonished chuckle.

"Incredible. It _works_ ," he says, somewhat disbelievingly. "I'm... I'll build it right now." He shoots a grateful, excited glance at Lena as he lopes past the doorway of his lab. "Thank you, Pilot Oxton!"

"Winston?" she calls as he rounds the corner.. "Winston, luv, wait -"

Her words are lost on the already-vanished scientist, and Lena sighs amusedly. "You got this, big guy."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for all your awesome comments and support, they make my day and keep me going <3

_Zurich, 2069_

"Just... be careful," Jack says, sighing slightly. "I don't know what's happened, but he's not happy."

Gérard nods, arms crossed. "Will do, _mon ami_."

Jack smiles at Amélie, hidden slightly behind Gérard's slim frame. "How are you, Amélie?"

"Fine, thank you," Amélie says quietly. She's still slightly stunned by the morning's events, and even though they've just arrived at the Overwatch headquarters after a couple of hours' travel she's already face to face with Jack Morrison again, in his office. She still remembers Reaper's - Gabriel's - reaction when he worked out Soldier: 76's identity.

Gérard turns to face Amélie. "Come on, _chérie_." He nods a smiling goodbye to Jack, and then he leads her out of the room and along several corridors.

"I have to talk to Gabriel, and then I'll be sorting out some new reconnaissance. What do you want to do?" he asks.

Amélie says, "I don't know. Perhaps talk to one of the others?"

Gérard smiles at her. "Good plan."

Amélie looks down as they continue walking. Her husband has been resurrected somehow, and although it seems like there's no difference for him she's lived years with the knowledge she _killed_ him. There's a horrified stiffness to the way she views him.

Gérard stops in front of a large door with _GABRIEL REYES_ on a sign beside it. "I'll be back in a few minutes. You remember where the recreation room is?"

" _Oui_ ," she says, and her dead husband smiles as he knocks on the door and she walks away.

Logically, she should go to the rec room. Gérard doesn't seem to have noticed anything is wrong, and although her entire reality feels off-kilter she should keep pretending she's in the right place. It's the best way to gain information and figure out what's happened to her before she returns to Talon. But her training wasn't useless, and even without her gear she knows how to be covert, be stealthy, be unseen.

Amélie slips into the corridor opposite Gabriel's office and walks quietly, scanning the walls for any niche she can fit into. There's a recessed doorway halfway along it, to the right, and she presses herself into the gap to hide herself from view. There's a click and Amélie peers around the recess, seeing Gabriel's door open.

Gérard's voice drifts over to her. "Try and calm down, Gabriel. I'll come back when you're feeling more rational." He steps out of the office and closes it, rubbing his forehead for a second. Amélie narrows her eyes as he mutters, " _Merde_."

Gérard looks up and Amélie ducks out of view, heartbeat pounding in her ears. It's so loud. He must be able to hear it. She flattens her breathing, inhaling shallowly and soundlessly, and concentrates on listening past her heart. Footsteps echo through the corridor and she risks another look towards the office. Gérard is walking away from her, towards the rec room she's supposed to be in. She'll worry about his reaction to her being missing later, but for now she has an opportunity.

Amélie sneaks down the corridor, making sure Gérard is well out of earshot and eyesight before she raps on Gabriel's door. She's taking a risk, yes, not knowing if he's been flung back in time the same way she has been, but it's worth him potentially thinking something's off with her. She can play it off if that's the case.

"I fucking told you I don't want to talk, Gérard!" comes a yell from inside, and then there's a bang that sounds like something being thrown across the room.

Amélie casts her eyes skywards. She's used to his outbursts, periods of rage when Gabriel loathes the world and everything in it. She's willing to bet the old Overwatch crew aren't. "Gabriel, it's Amélie."

The door's ripped open in front of her to reveal Gabriel, alive and whole and smokeless, standing there with fury in his eyes. "Get in."

She goes directly over to the red-accented chair opposite his desk, noting the abused-looking box, once full of papers currently fluttering across the floor of the office, strewn on the ground. "What happened to us?" she asks, cutting straight to the point.

Gabriel glares at her as he sits, picking up on the meaning instantly. "I don't fucking know. That bitch's accelerator broke and now we're _fucking stuck here_!" he yells.

"Calm yourself," Amélie chastises. "Anger is not going to help anything. We need to figure out what to do."

He takes a breath, clenching his fists. "Yeah. Fine. Okay. This is so fucking strange."

"For you?" She chuckles drily. "I can hear my heartbeat for the first time in years, Gabriel. I need to fix it."

"What?" he asks, frowning at her.

Amélie sighs. "I doubt Talon's present technology is unable to slow my heart down again. We need to find a way to contact them, and then -"

"You want to go back to Talon?" Gabriel asks, and his voice is slow and barely controlled. "We do that and they'll turn me into a _fucking smoke monster_ again, just like _she_ did the first time! No goddamn _way_ are either of us going back -"

"You do not get to decide what I do."

"You go back and I tell Gérard that you're going to -"

"If you dare tell him I will end your worthless _life_ , Gabriel!" Amélie shouts, breathing heavily, and she realises she's standing up. " _Quoi_?" She moves backwards, lifting her hands off the table. "I... apologise. I do not know..."

"It's called anger, Amélie. Temper tantrum. They really fucked us both up, huh?" Gabriel says humourlessly, coldly, and she knows exactly who he's talking about.

Amélie just sits down silently, emotion still pumping through her veins. Her heartbeat is still there, and she tries to push the sound away.

A beep pierces the air and Gabriel frowns, grabbing the communicator at his waist.

_ANGELA ZIEGLER: The Puerto team have just come back._

_ANGELA ZIEGLER: Agent McCree needs medical attention. I thought you should know._

Gabriel curses. "Of course he does."

Amélie peers at the screen. "He was there in Oasis. Do you think he has been... sent back too?"

"Only one way to find out," he answers, clipping the comm unit back on his waist. Amélie stands up to go with him, and he holds out a hand. "No. No, you can't come. You have to go back to Gérard."

Amélie glares at him. " _Quoi_?"

Gabriel stares at her. "What do you think they're going to do to us if they find out about Talon? About when we come from?" He opens the door and gestures, a clear invitation to get out. "You have to keep him from finding out. I know you can do it."

"Fine," Amélie says, thin-lipped. "But as soon as we figure out what is happening, Gabriel, I refuse to keep pretending."

"Fine." Gabriel echoes her words, albeit more darkly. "I'm going to find McCree and work out if the monkey's managed to get Tracer out yet. Then we can see if they've been pulled back. Can you get here again tomorrow morning without letting Gérard know?"

" _Oui_ , I can do that. What about Sombra?"

"She's a ghost, Amélie. None of us are finding her until she wants to be found."

With that, they go their separate ways.

 

_Dorado, 2069_

Sombra has only three things with her: her wits, her fashion sense, and her augmentations.

She steps out of her room into the warm sun, reveling in the fresh smell of her hometown. The Talon base in France, where she's been stationed along with Reaper and Widowmaker for several months now, smells permanently of chill air and excess antiseptic. It's a relief to be away from the odour, even if this odd situation is only temporary.

Most of Los Muertos are out. The simultaneous raids on the Lumérico CEO's home and workplace take almost all the members to accomplish. Sombra's done her part, taking down the security and ensuring it won't be able to function again for several days, and so now she's nearly got the freedom to investigate her own status as _time-displaced purple hacker_. She just has to take care of one thing first.

Sombra grimaces, thinking about the rudimentary technology she has in this time. She still needs to use gestures to operate her augmentations, instead of the neural interface she had installed in 2070. She's also missing her translocator technology: it doesn't exist yet, and so she hasn't stolen it. It annoys her to know she's been set back like that. Still, she flicks a quick pattern to enable her camouflage as she sneaks out of Los Muertos territory, not wanting any interruptions.

It takes her a few minutes to reach the other side of the city, to _La Nube_. The door to the studio is locked, as it always is, although Sombra hacks through the encryption easily. She pushes it open.

"María?" she calls. "¿ _Estás aqui_?"

"¿ _Quién es_?"

"Sombra."

María appears from the back room, shock-white dyed hair and all, and grins when she sees the hacker. "Ay, it's my favourite customer," she says.

Sombra smirks. "Good to see you too, _puta_."

"What do you want this time?" she asks, leading Sombra around to the lab. "I just got new imports in. Voice mods, a couple of visual augmentations - oh, and a new comms implant."

"I want your neural interface. And its controls."

María stops dead, staring at her. "How do you know about that?"

"It doesn't matter." Sombra waves a hand. "I just need it. I'm willing for you to test it on me."

The artist frowns. "I'm not sure. It's still a prototype -"

"I'll pay you triple."

María whistles. " _Maldición_ , that's a lot. I guess I can do it, if you're sure."

Sombra grins as she lies face-down on the table. The lab is exactly as she remembers, spare omnic parts and half-finished technology scattered all over the workbenches, the single bright light over the operating table. Despite its look, María manages to keep the place sterile by some miracle. "I knew I could count on you."

"Ay, don't get all mushy, _idiota_ ," she retorts, and although Sombra can't see her grin she can see it.

The operation takes about three hours, from the initial pain dampener to insertion to cleanup, and when it's finished María sits back, sighing.

"How are you feeling?" she asks. "Ready for initialisation?"

Sombra massages the back of her neck, the dampener wearing off slightly and letting her feel the soreness. The cut is covered in biotic cream, and it's already closing. "Yeah, it's fine. Do it."

She shuts her eyes, preparing for it and electricity _jolts_ through her body, making her jerk on the table and gasp. Cold shoots through her mind, the interface reaching out to connect to her brain, and she groans slightly, dizzy.

María raises an eyebrow. "¿ _Estás bien_?"

Sombra grimaces and gives her a thumbs up. "There are two of you," she says, watching the room spin.

The artist laughs, getting to her feet and putting her tools away. "If you can still think, you're fine. Looks like it worked."

A few minutes pass before Sombra can stand up again, the double vision dissipating, and she does so as soon as she's able.

"Hey, _puta_ , you got any tech around?" she calls.

"Tablet's in the top drawer."

Sombra retrieves it and hovers her fingers above it, the new tech in her fingertips shooting out a hard-light control panel.

_PASSCODE: _ _ _ __

She taps it once, twice, concentrating on the device.

_PASSCODE: _ _ _ __

"Come on," she mutters, and hones her focus before she reinputs the commands. Streams of light beam from her fingers to the tablet as she moves them.

_PASSCODE: _ _ _ _  
UNLOCKED_

"Hah!" she laughs, flexing her fingers. " _Gracias_ , María, it worked." Exactly like it does in her present.

The artist reappears, drying her hands with a cloth. "Nice. You still need to pay me," she adds, grinning.

Sombra rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

It takes a few taps to access the new interface in her mind, several more to set up secure connections to her secret accounts. The final commands transfer the money from one of them to _La Nube_ 's finances.

"Done it," she says, the control panel disappearing with a swipe of her fingers.

María gives her a grin in thanks. "Where are you off to, then?"

Sombra smirks. "I'm going to find some old friends." She turns to leave then, but pauses in the doorway. "Oh, María?"

The artist raises an eyebrow. "¿ _Qué_?"

Sombra's expression breaks into a self-satisfied grin. "Get a new password. Four numbers is just lazy."

With that, she's gone, and Sombra engages her camo as she starts to run, aiming for the Trans-México station in the centre of the city.

 

_Zurich, 2069_

By the time Winston reappears, several hours later, Lena has gradually slid down the side of the wall and is sprawled out on the floor. She's tried several things to stave off the boredom, including talking to Athena, but the AI seems unwilling to acknowledge her. Lena supposes it's just as weird for her as it must be for Winston. At the sight of the scientist's bulky frame returning through the door, though, she jumps up eagerly and bounces over to the glass.

"How'd it go, Winston?" she asks, grinning.

The scientist turns to her, adjusting his glasses, and a small smile blooms in his expression. "Well, Pilot Oxton -"

"Call me Lena, luv," she interrupts.

"Oh. Of course," Winston says, looking pleased, if a little surprised. "I managed to build a prototype model quite quickly, although I might have to iron out a few flaws. I must say, though, it turned out rather heavy, and -"

"I can handle it," Lena says confidently, giving him a smile. "Is it ready to try on?"

Winston blinks. "Uh, I suppose so." He lopes over to the transparent door to the accelerator room and opens it, passing the glowing accelerator through to Lena. She huffs slightly as she takes it, the weight pulling on her arms, and sets it down on the floor before she inspects the design.

It's almost identical to her old one, save for the missing pulse bomb. The clips and locks on the harness seem to function the same, and Lena nearly laughs out loud at the thought that Winston really hasn't changed. She flips open the top and separates the two halves, bright blue light shining in her eyes, and hefts the contraption up and over her head. The weight settles comfortably on her shoulders; it's a familiar sensation, one that she's grateful to have again. Fastening the clips and securing the locks takes about a minute, and then Lena is standing upright with the accelerator shining brightly on her chest.

Blinking didn't always come naturally to her, and recalling was even harder to get down. It took Lena several weeks to get to grips fully with her abilities, but this time around she doesn't have that problem. So she concentrates and focuses, and the world shifts around her until she's blinked into the doorway.

Winston splutters with shock. "What?"

Lena grins at him. "Don't worry, it's normal. Thanks, luv!" She throws her arms around him in a hug, and he stiffens. "I know you don't know it yet, but we're friends," she says, slightly muffled.

Winston smiles, and relaxes. "I can certainly see us being close. But -"

Lena hesitates as she pulls back from the hug. "I know you have a lot of questions, right?" The scientist nods. "Can they wait for, I dunno... a couple hours?"

"I suppose so," he answers, and Lena's grin reappears in full force.

"Great! Thanks, big guy!"

She blinks away, out of the lab, and Winston shakes his head in amusement as the Brit disappears from view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gabe gets pretty rude when he's angry, huh?


	4. Chapter 4

"I told you, 'm fine!" Jesse protests, but Sangre just shakes her head.

"You can't honestly think you're in the future and then pretend you're fine, kid. Angela's already waiting for you," she says drily as the dropship door whirrs open.

They've just flown from Colorado to Zurich, with both Bourne and Sangre insisting on keeping him still and radioing Angela. Jesse's pretty pissed at their attention, unwarranted as it is, and all he wants to do is find out what's happened to him. The last thing he remembers before waking up with two whole goddamn arms is Lena's accelerator malfunctioning. Jesse's smart, but he's not a scientist, and he doesn't know how it works beyond 'time control'. The possibility it's done something to him is quite likely, in his mind. He just needs to find out what, and how to fix it.

The door hits the floor with a clunk, and Jesse unbuckles himself from the seat as Bourne comes over from the opposite side of the ship.

"You good?" he asks.

Jesse mutters, "Yeah." He doesn't trust Bourne, not by any stretch of the imagination.

He walks out of the dropship, blinking at the bright light streaming in from the hangar doors. He spots a familiar head of platinum blonde hair among the people striding to and fro, and he's about to shout her name when the crowd seems to part and Angela hurries towards him, face years younger and expression worried. Jesse almost takes a step back; weird enough as this situation is, seeing Angela so different is another level.

"Jesus," he mutters, as the blonde medic reaches him.

"I received your message, Bourne. What do you think is wrong?" Angela's voice is a little higher, a little stronger in accent, but it's still familiar.

Bourne gestures to Jesse. "I'm thinking concussion or something similar. He's disoriented, doesn't really seem to know where he is."

Jesse widens his eyes at Angela and she frowns slightly, keeping her eyes on Bourne. It used to be - is? - their signal to each other that _I'm actually fine, I promise_. "I will look him over. Are either of you in need of urgent attention?"

Sangre shakes her head. "Nah. We'll just head over for standard checkup." She turns to Jesse, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Rest up, kid."

The two agents depart, chatting as Angela turns her gaze to Jesse. "Are you alright?" she asks, brow furrowed.

Jesse nods. "I'm all good, Angie. Had a fuckin' weird dream, though, felt real." The lie comes easily to him.

"A dream that you were..." she looks down, checking Bourne's message, "living in the future?" There's a hint of a grin on her face, but it's obscured by concern.

Jesse shrugs, and nods with a grin. "Yup."

Angela eyes him dubiously. "Are you sure? I can check you over-"

"McCree," comes a sudden voice, and Jesse turns.

His heart stops in his chest as he sees the powerfully-built, dark-skinned soldier standing in front of him, beanie and scars and all. It's _Gabriel_ standing in front of him, and Jesse's smile dies as he stares at the long-dead man. This has to be a dream. Gabriel is _dead_. Jesse goes silent, staring, and Angela's gaze fixes on him. This _cannot_ be real. He's not lucky enough for it to be real.

"You alright?" Gabriel asks bluntly, not acknowledging Angela, and Jesse nods once, twice, mouth hanging open. His vision blurs slightly, and he swipes at his cheeks roughly, snapping out of the trance.

"Uh, 'm fine," he says vaguely. "Is... Gabe, is that really you?" Did he call him Gabe at this point in the past, or was it still Reyes? Jesse can't remember.

An odd expression crosses the commander's face, and he glances at Angela before he answers, "Yeah, it is, kid. Who else would it be?"

Jesse lets out an awkward laugh. "Hell, I dunno. Stupid question."

Angela interrupts, concern on her face. "Jesse, are you sure you're okay? You do seem disoriented."

The cowboy shifts. "Peachy, Angie, I just need to sleep it off. Be right as rain." For whatever insane reason, he's got another chance to see Gabe, and he's not going to screw it up by letting on something weird has happened. He's got a chance to live the past and he's not going to change it; he needs to act normal.

The medic smiles at him, a hint of worry behind the expression. "Okay, Jesse. Tell me if your disorientation gets worse," she instructs.

Jesse nods, grinning back at her. "Will do, Ange."

With that, Angela squeezes him in a quick hug before she heads off behind him to check over another incoming mission. Jesse's left with Gabriel, back from the dead and looking serious as shit.

Gabriel nods at him. "Come to my office in about an hour, alright? We need to talk."

Jesse swallows. "Sure thing, Gabe."

Maybe the past has rose-coloured lenses for him, but Gabriel's so much more blunt than he remembers. The Blackwatch commander nods again, looking at a loss for words. Jesse frowns when he turns on his heel and strides away without a word of goodbye. He'll investigate tomorrow, but for now what he needs is to sleep off the mindfuck that's twisting his brain. Maybe he'll wake up and this will all be some concussion-based fever dream and he won't be stuck in the past. Maybe.

He can always hope.

 

 

Lena heads straight for Jack's office, blinking straight past the crowd of startled agents in the corridors. She skids to a halt in front of the door and raps on it twice, lifting slightly on the balls of her feet, and waits.

"Excuse me?" someone asks, and Lena turns to see an agent in blue peering at her. "Are you looking for Strike-Commander Morrison?"

"Yeah," she nods, grinning at him.

The agent's expression is halfway between doubt and confusion. "He's left headquarters. It's his day off tomorrow and he's left to get a head start, because..." He trails off, gesturing to the wide window set in the wall that Lena only now notices is dark blue and starry. It's late evening.

Lena nearly smacks herself. She remembers the days off; once every couple of months or so, Jack got an entire day to himself where he was completely off the grid. There's no way to reach him, if that's true. "Bloody hell," she groans. "Thanks anyway, luv."

The agent nods, giving her an apologetic smile, and carries on down the corridor. Lena spares a moment to pull a face at her frustration before she blinks all the way back to Winston's lab.

"Knock knock," she greets as she echoes the sound on his door.

Winston turns in his chair, banana in one hand and peanut butter in the other. Lena nearly laughs out loud at the guilty expression on his face. "Miss - I mean, Lena! I didn't expect you to be back so soon!"

Lena swings herself into the room, holding on to the side of the doorframe. "Yeah, it's his day off. He's gone." She makes an explosion gesture with her hands, puffing up her cheeks.

"Oh dear. I've... rather lost track of time," Winston admits, adjusting his glasses. "Was it not the same the... last time you were here?"

Lena shakes her head. "You took about a week to get the accelerator working, instead of a day. He was here then." She frowns. "Winston, I... I'm really sorry, luv, but I don't suppose you have anywhere I could crash for a day or so? Until I can talk to him?"

Winston swivels round in his chair and hops off, lumbering over to the far corner of his lab. There's a little tower of empty peanut butter jars teetering next to a tire suspended from the ceiling. Winston mutters something to himself before pulling open one of the storage cabinet panels to reveal a stack of pillows. "Could you use these?" he asks doubtfully.

Lena grins, coming closer and taking one of them. "Course. Thanks, luv!" He hasn't been through all the nights when Lena slept on those exact pillows next to him, she realises.

Winston adjusts his glasses, turning back to her. "So... do you remember how you got here?"

"Oh, I promised I'd tell you what it was about, didn't I?"

The scientist chuckles. "Yes. If you don't mind, of course."

Lena sits down cross-legged on the pillow, and Winston joins her as she begins, "So here's the thing. I don't actually know what happened. Like, I know I got sent back in time, but I don't know what caused it. Or how long I'm stuck here." She shrugs, and laughs. "Dunno if I'll see Emily again."

"Emily?" Winston asks, and Lena nods.

"Yeah, she's my girlfriend. Or is it _will_ be my girlfriend? No clue. Anyway. I left her behind in London. I hope she's not worrying about me."

Winston pushes his glasses up his nose, blinking. "If you've gone back in time, she won't even know you're gone. That future hasn't happened yet."

Lena cocks her head. "Guess so." She flaps her hands suddenly. "Sorry, big guy, getting distracted! Anyway. It's a long story and I definitely don't know all of it, but basically I was fighting Talon and they got my accelerator." She makes a pew-pew noise, accompanied by twin finger guns. "It broke, I guess, and sent me back to this time. First time you got me out the Slipstream mess."

"Interesting," the scientist murmurs, blinking. "I didn't realise Talon would continue to be such a threat."

"Yeah," Lena says. "Got a bunch of special agents to try and end Overwatch. But... I dunno, but I've seen a bunch of old sci-fi and I swear you're not allowed to reveal the future." She grins sheepishly.

Winston chuckles. "That's probably a myth."

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door and Winston frowns, loping over to open it.

"Hi," Gabriel Reyes says, standing in the doorway with a forced-looking smile. "The Strike-Commander's asked me to come and find Lena Oxton. Is she here?"

Lena stands up, frowning, as Winston gestures towards her. "Uh, yes, she is. I haven't quite finished my tests yet -"

"Doesn't matter. She'll be a couple of hours at the most," Gabriel interrupts. "Quick conference."

"Well, if it's necessary..." Winston concedes, trailing off, and Lena grins and pats him on the back.

"Back soon then, big guy. Don't wait up!"

She blinks over to the doorway and she swears she can hear Gabriel muttering something, but he turns before she can talk and starts walking away. Lena remembers Gabriel as a total hardass at the start of her Overwatch membership, but gradually as more relaxed and then even close to her. Right now, though, in this time she'd only just exited the Slipstream; had she established a relationship yet, or was it still stiffly formal? Lena can't remember exactly when they started being friendly, or even when they met. Being lost in the Slipstream muddled her memories from before

"Hurry up," Gabriel growls, and Lena frowns. She doesn't remember him being _this_ irritable.

"Sorry, sir," she says, and blinks to catch up.

Gabriel huffs at the title and starts striding at a faster pace, towards the more empty part of the base. Lena recalls there being a couple of conference and storage rooms, but not much else. It's definitely not the way to the Strike-Commander's office.

"Um, sir?" Lena asks tentatively, still not sure where their relationship is at in this point in time.

"What?" he practically snarls, and Lena's frown grows deeper.

"I thought we were going to see the Strike-Commander?" She phrases it like a question.

Gabriel shoots her a glare. "No. We're meeting up with the others." He turns back forward after that, making it clear he doesn't want to interact with her in any way.

Lena's been confused many times in her life, but this is one of those times where she doesn't even have the barest inkling what's happening. She's learnt that in these situations it's better to keep her mouth shut and observe, converse to what she normally does. So she quiets and follows Gabriel wordlessly, frown creasing deeper, and tries to figure out what's going on.

 

 

Jesse's running late as he rounds the corner, going to his meeting with Gabriel. The first thing he sees is a fair-skinned woman leaning up against the wall beside Gabriel's door, looking the other way. He frowns and takes a step forward, and her head snaps to look at him. Jesse stares, tensing, as she pushes herself off from the wall and he sees her face clearly.

"Ah, you are finally here," Amélie Lacroix says, sounding bored as she stands in the doorway. "Come on."

Jesse narrows his eyes. "I ain't goin' anywhere with you. I know who you are. Where's Gabe?"

Amélie sighs. "We do not have time for this. The others are waiting. Come with me now."

"Others?"

"Everyone who was sent back. Do you remember? We have all turned up here, apart from Sombra. Nobody knows where that _petite merde_ has gone."

Jesse swallows, and nods once, moving his hand back slightly to rest on Peacekeeper. If he's going to come face-to-face with the Reaper, he's damn sure going to be prepared. At least he'll have Lena with him. "Lead on, then, I guess."

Amélie starts walking without a word, leading him through the compound he still knows like the back of his hand. Jesse pulls out his comm unit as he goes, quickly tapping a message out to Gabriel that he'll be back soon. Hopefully the commander won't be too pissed at him when Jesse gets back.

They reach the back area of Zurich, a more empty section full of storage rooms. Amélie seems to know where they're going and Jesse just follows, readying himself for some kind of trap. Peacekeeper hangs heavy at his hip. They can't have set up anything too dangerous within Zurich, but it's best to be prepared.

"This one," Amélie comments, breaking Jesse's reverie, and turns into a small cabinet. The light is already on, and when he enters there are two people plus Amélie already present. Lena lets out a happy noise as she sees him.

"Jesse!" she says, and blinks forward to hug him.

Jesse, though, is focused on the other occupant of the room. He frowns as Lena detaches herself. "Gabe? What are you doing here?"

Shock crosses Gabriel's expression before it turns stormy. "What do you think, ingrate?"

Jesse's brow creases further. "What?"

"Does he not know?" Amélie asks, one eyebrow raised.

Gabriel's face is dark, and he stares straight at Jesse as he shakes his head.

Something occurs to the cowboy then, a horrible thought that hovers at the back of his mind. Widowmaker is present. Tracer is beside him. Sombra's fallen off the face of the damn planet. There is only one other person who was sent back, and there's nobody else in this room who could be... Reaper.

The realisation jolts through his gut like a knife, and he takes a step back. "No," Jesse breathes.

Gabriel's expression twists. "Don't fucking do this. Not now."

Jesse stares at him in abject horror. "Tell me you're not the Reaper. Tell me, Gabe, right now."

The Blackwatch commander's gaze is hard. "You know I can't do that."

"You fuckin' _cabrón_ ," Jesse yells, a red haze settling over his vision. "You let me think you were dead, you bastard!"

Gabriel snarls. "Don't play the victim. You abandoned me in Zurich! You left me to _die_ and then _she_ fucking brought me back!"

Jesse clenches his fists almost subconsciously, curses hissing from his mouth. He should feel pain. He should feel horror at what his mentor turned into.

All he feels is anger.

"You were dead," Jesse says quietly, pushing down the fury until it simmers under the surface of his voice. "I would never have left you if I knew otherwise. And afterwards, I dunno what the fuck happened to you but why didn't you _tell_ me? I would have come straight back for you, no matter what. You're the one who left me."

The last words are almost inaudible, and Gabriel's gaze is dark. He says nothing, and Jesse takes a breath as Lena shifts slightly, pressing her body to his, making sure he knows she's there and ready to back him up. The silence lasts for a several drawn-out moments, the Blackwatch agents staring at each other unwaveringly, before Amélie clears her throat.

"We need to get on," she states, and the other occupants of the room seem to snap out of their trances.

Lena nods. "What are we trying to do? Get back to the present, right?"

Gabriel lets out a snort. "Not in a million years. I'm staying here."

"We have no idea how to travel forward," Amélie points out, "and we cannot tell anyone that we are not who they think we are. I do not think we have a choice."

Lena opens her mouth, about to object, before Jesse says, "They're Talon, Lena. We'd be fine. They wouldn't." His gaze is still fixed darkly on Gabriel, who ignores Jesse's stare.

The Brit rubs the back of her neck, looking sheepish. "I... may have already given Winston some answers. I thought it was just me at the start. Didn't know anyone else came back."

Gabriel's fists ball on the table. "Great. Of course the monkey's involved."

"Call him that again and you'll regret it, _cabrón_ ," Jesse threatens, glaring at Gabriel.

"What did you tell him?" Amélie interrupts, looking at Lena, who shrugs.

"Not much. Just that my accelerator broke in the future when I was fighting Talon, and he knows about Talon still being big in the future, but I didn't tell him about-"

"Does he know about us?" Gabriel growls, gesturing to the other occupants of the room.

Lena shakes her head. "No."

"So what are we goin' to do?" Jesse asks.

Gabriel exchanges a look with Amélie. She nods. "We're staying right here," he says.

Amélie's lips part. "Excuse me? That is not -"

"We have a chance to change _everything_ ," Gabriel says. "My body. Your mind. Your arm. All those deaths. We can fix them."

"You're not supposed to change the past," Lena says, looking anxious. "First rule of time travel."

Amélie scoffs despite herself. "And where did you get that from?"

"Like, every sci-fi film ever," Lena retorts.

"The key there is science _fiction_. That's not true; this is. We don't know if this has ever happened before," Gabriel points out. "We make our own rules."

"But how're we goin' to fix everythin' without anyone knowin'?" Jesse frowns. "

Amélie gives him a glance. "We need to take matters into our own hands."

Gabriel turns then, startling the others, and rips open the cabinet behind him. He grabs a couple of sheets of paper and scrambles around for a pen, slapping them on the surface. "We write it down. Every single date, everything that went wrong. And then we have a list to fix. Keep it old school, don't use electronics," he instructs.

In the true past, Jesse would have called him out on his paranoia. Now, though, standing in the company of two future terrorists under a roof filled with future Talon agents, he can't blame Gabriel for the extra measures.

Gabriel tears open the cap of the pen, expression dark. "What's the date?"

Lena squints slightly. "It's the day after I came out of the Slipstream, so..."

Jesse takes a glance at his comm. "Twenty-eighth December. 2069. This is such a mindfuck," he mutters.

"Yeah," Lena says, shrugging.

"Okay," Gabriel murmurs, underlining it. "As far as I can remember, it's just the regular until... February."

"Me," mutters Amélie.

Lena glances at the Frenchwoman, expression filled with concern.

"We know when it happens," says Gabriel, "and we know where it happens."

"So we can move her out of harm's way, right?" Lena asks.

"No," says Jesse, looking at the table, and the others' gazes switch to him. "We have to keep everythin' the same."

"No way!" Lena says indignantly.

Jesse holds up his hands. "Don't get me wrong, hun, I ain't suggestin' givin' her to Talon. But if we move her away, they'll come up with a different plan, and we won't know it. If we wait till the last minute then move her, they'll know we know their plans and they'll be more careful..."

"And we won't be able to predict their movements," Gabriel murmurs, completing Jesse's point.

"Exactly. We have to set up some kind of alarm that will give us a lead to go after her once they've kidnapped her, and we get her back before Talon can reach her. That way nobody gets hurt, but they don't suspect us."

Amélie interrupts, "I am in the room, you know. You do not have to keep referring to 'her'."

"Sorry," Jesse apologises.

"I agree to being bait like this, on one condition," Amélie says. "Gérard must not be told about this. About us."

Lena frowns. "That'll make it a lot harder. And less safe."

"I do not care," Amélie answers. "He does not know. Agreed?"

Jesse nods, and although Lena's expression shows she wants to argue she copies the gesture.

"All agreed then," Gabriel says. "We need a way to install extra security in your home, Amélie, without anyone from Blackwatch knowing. I have no way of telling who turns traitor in the future. I'm too dead to notice that bit."

"Wait," Lena pipes up suddenly. "What if we... I dunno, faked a threat on Amélie's life, or something? That way we can assign someone to protect her, and then we don't have to go after her once Talon's got her. We can just defeat them right there when they try."

Gabriel narrows his eyes slightly. "I don't... see why that would be a bad idea. You up for it?"

"Huh?" Lena asks, frowning.

"One of us has to be protecting Amélie; we're the only ones who know what's going on. I'm not doing it, and if it's Jesse they'll kill each other before Talon even thinks about kidnapping her, so it's going to be you."

"Oh," the Brit says, blinking, and shrugs. "Sure."

Amélie rolls her eyes, looking unimpressed. "I can protect myself, Gabriel."

"Yeah, I know that, Amélie, we all do. But Gérard doesn't, and if you suddenly start demonstrating your training he's going to notice." Gabriel raises an eyebrow. "And then he's probably going to find out."

" _Merde_ ," the sniper mutters.

"It's fine, luv," Lena says. "I'm happy to do it."

Gabriel nods. "Fine. Then I need to fake a threat, and get Gérard to agree to extra protection."

"What do we do now?" Amélie asks.

"We act normal," says Jesse. "The same as we used to, while we figure out what to do."

Everyone goes quiet for a moment, thinking about how different they all are to the past. Acting like they used to feels so false, and it's almost impossible for some of them. They're all lost in their individual thoughts, unaware of the others' similar sentiments, before Lena bites her lip.

"Guess we need to write down what else happens, then, right?" she asks, breaking the silence.

Amélie nods and opens her mouth to talk, but Gabriel speaks first. "Yeah, but we have to go back for now. Our absences are going to be noticed."

The Frenchwoman mutters something inaudible and glares at Gabriel before she sweeps out of the room, Lena hurrying after her. Jesse goes to follow, and Gabriel looks down at the table, readying himself to go back to his pretense.

"Reyes," Jesse says suddenly, pausing in the doorway.

Gabriel turns, lip curled. "What, ingrate?"

"You hurt anyone else," Jesse says, tone low, "and I will end you."

He leaves the room without another word, and Gabriel grits his teeth for a second before he bangs his fist against the table. "Fuck!" he yells. It's going to be almost impossible to pull off changing the future without alerting anyone anyway, even without infighting within the four of them (five, if that little shit Sombra would actually turn up); but the ingrate who deserted him is going to make everything so much more difficult for all of them if he's focusing harder on Gabriel than their temporal mission.

 _Fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hc that jesse would just be really, really angry at gabe for (from his point of view) abandoning him and becoming a bad guy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i spent a long time trying to insert moira into the story, and rewrote a lot of my plan before i realised it felt incredibly forced and decided to undo my changes. chapter five is finally done, though, so enjoy! please remember to leave comments if you're enjoying; i love hearing what you think.

The Headquarters in Zurich has, as far as Sombra can tell, no covert way in.

This is interesting for two reasons. Firstly, it means that the infamous explosion that ended Overwatch must have happened from the inside, or at least had inside _help_ ; but that's a puzzle for later, Sombra muses, filing it away in her mind. The - currently more important - second reason is that she won't be able to get in undetected.

She's been scouting out the building for a whole morning, more than she's ever spent on recon before. Usually she just walks up to a location and her augmentations can tell her where to go to get to the control centre, but Overwatch has got a little more security than her usual abandoned offices and Watchpoints. Even the backdoors have guards, and they're marked with heat sensors; she's not going to be able to get in without making a disturbance. Sombra's goal is to reach the others without detection, assuming they've been sent back like her (she has no idea what she'll do if she's wrong) and she can't do that by sneaking her way in. It's probably one of the first times in her life _not_ using stealth will help her.

" _Guten Tag_ ," someone says behind her, and Sombra turns to see a smiling man in shades of Robin Hood forest green (yeah, she _did_ pay attention to all of her _mamá_ 's old films) standing there. He's looking up at her, as she's perched on a wall opposite the Headquarters. Sombra ignores him, going back to scrutinising the compound.

"Uh... English?" he asks when she doesn't respond, this time slightly hesitant. His accent is incredibly similar to Angela Ziegler's.

Sombra sighs inwardly; this guy isn't going to go away. So she flicks on a smile and looks down. "Hi!" she says brightly, restricting her Spanish accent as far as she can. She's blending in well with her drab civilian clothes, and she doesn't need her foreign-sounding voice giving her away.

"Ah, you _are_ English!" the Swiss man says, beaming. "I'm sorry, but I must ask you to get down."

Sombra shrugs. "Sure, mister," she acquiesces, already bored of the bubblegum-pop persona she's using.

He nods at her as she climbs down nimbly, dropping to the floor. "Thank you. Are you alright? Lost?"

"No, I'm okay," she tells him, and nods. "Except... my uncle is in that building there," she adds, sensing an opportunity, "and I don't really know how to get in. He said I'm not technically supposed to be there, so is there a special way to get in?" she asks, beaming at him. Unfortunately, the words have the opposite result to the intended outcome.

"Overwatch?" the Swiss man asks, and frowns slightly. "I... I'm afraid I can't help you there. Please don't climb the wall again. _Auf Wiedersehen_ ," he says curtly, and turns, walking away.

"¿Qué?" Sombra mutters. Obviously public unrest was - is - growing at a faster rate than she recalls.

She looks back up at the Headquarters again, and swears. She's so close and yet so far; she's going to need to get creative to gain access. Sombra tugs her hood farther down and walks away, already plotting her break-in.

 

 

Jesse has to walk quickly to catch up to Lena, and when he's in range he taps her on the shoulder.

"C'mere," he hisses, steering her towards the left, away from Gabriel and Jack and Gérard's offices. Jesse's not aiming for anywhere specific as long as they can't be heard, and so as soon as he's sure neither of the Talon agents (he refuses to think of them as his friends) can hear them.

"Jesus Christ, Lena, we have to fix this," is the first thing he says. "How are we goin' to get back?"

Lena frowns. "What? I thought-"

"I know I didn't say it in there, Lena, but it's only us that need to go back. We leave those two here, we take Talon's top agents outta commission, and then-"

"That isn't gonna work," Lena interrupts, frowning. "We can't get back to the future unless we take them with us too. Otherwise we've got... I dunno, some parallel universe we'll be entering." Jesse opens his mouth to argue, but the Brit cuts him off first. "I know they're not real, but Hollywood got a lot right, Jesse. When I was in the Slipstream, it was a lot like those old films from the beginning of the century. You'd be surprised."

"Fuck," Jesse sighs, and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. "I ain't got a clue how we go from here."

Lena shrugs. "We trust them."

Jesse shoots her a glare. "We ain't doin' that. They're terrorists, Lena."

"Amélie was forced to become an agent," Lena says, ticking off with her fingers. "Gabriel didn't have much of a choice. We can help them, Jesse! Stop them becoming terrorists. Save them. C'mon, isn't this what you joined Overwatch in the first place for? You're a hero in the future. Be one now," Lena says, eyes pleading.

"I joined the dark half of Overwatch to avoid gettin' my ass jailed or killed," Jesse tells her. "I ain't any more of a hero than these guys are villains."

She doesn't have anything to say to that, and so Lena falls silent.

"Fine," Jesse says heavily. "I trust you. You say we help them, we do it. But if either of them tries anythin' bad, I'm endin' them."

Lena nods. "Thanks, Jesse. I need to get back to Winston. Promised him answers."

"Are you gonna mention me?" Jesse asks.

Lena shakes her head. "No. I'm not telling him about you, Gabriel _or_ Amélie. Keeps it more simple, right?"

Jesse nods, giving her a smile before he suddenly freezes.

Lena's smile fades. "Jesse?"

He shushes her immediately, and turns to look out into the corridor. "Someone's listening," he whispers, and Lena's blood goes cold. "Over here."

Jesse flits over to a door on the left, its lights glowing slightly to indicate it's active. In a deserted corridor like this, the only explanation to that is that someone's just used it.

 _Ready_? he mouths.

Lena nods.

Jesse withdraws his six-shooter from its holster, frowning as he switches hands. It's obvious he doesn't know which one's better, now he's been using his less dominant arm for years. Eventually Jesse grips it in his usual right hand, and readies himself before he puts his thumb against the scanner and darts into the opening doorway, gun raised.

"The fuck?" Lena hears him say, and she blinks into the room.

Winston's in there, his hulking mass taking up most of the space, and there's an expression of fear on his face; it's right there next to his obvious guilt and surprise.

"What are you doing here?" Lena asks, astonished.

"I... What are _you_ doing here? You don't even belong here," Winston acauses.

Jesse doesn't lower the gun still pointed towards the scientist as he answers, "None of your damn business.'

Lena shoots Jesse a glare. "It's okay, Jesse. We can trust him."

"I trust our Winston," he retorts. "I barely know this one."

Winston frowns. "I overheard most of your conversation. I know what's going on."

"Oh, really? You sure?" Jesse asks, taking a step forward with narrowed eyes. "Go on, then."

Winston gives the cowboy a glare. "According to your story, Commander Reyes and Amélie Lacroix are Talon agents and you are all from the future."

Jesse's hard expression falters. "Well, shit," he says.

Lena interrupts. "Winston, why were you _in_ here? Did you suspect us, or...?"

Winston blushes slightly. Lena raises an eyebrow. "I was, erm... I may have left something in here."

"What?"

WInston mutters something.

"What was that, big guy?" Lena asks.

"Fourteen jars of peanut butter," he mumbles. "Dr Ziegler thinks it's bad for my health so she banned it, and-"

"For fuck's sake," Jesse sighs, lowering the gun. "I don't know why I expected anything else."

Lena shoots him a sideways glance, only to find him smiling wryly at Winston. She grins.

"Help us stop some of these events," Jesse says, "and don't tell the other two you know."

Winston pauses, but Jesse's finishes. "Or...?" he prompts.

"Do I really need to say somethin' specific?" Jesse asks, and he walks straight out of the room without preamble.

Lena widens her eyes slightly. "Don't take it personally," she tells Winston. "He's in a bollocks situation right now. Obviously."

Thankfully Winston doesn't press, but just draws himself up and grabs a jar of peanut butter from some stash Lena can't currently see. "Shall we get back to the lab then?" he asks, and when Lena smiles and nods he heads out of the door with her.

Winston starts walking, but Lena sneaks a glance back into the room to see Winston's stash. There's a small wall cavity there, and she can see at least twenty gold jars stacked up next to a pile of discarded monitors. She stares, gaze scrutinising the jars, and realises there are a hell of a lot more jars there than previously thought.

"Winston, _fourteen_?" Lena yells, and blinks after the scientist.

 

 

_"Annecy, do you copy?"_

_"Copy."_

_"Is the target there?"_

_"Negative. She's with the secondary in Zurich."_

_"Understood. Contacting Zurich team. Out."_

_"Out."_

Gabriel steps back from the speaker, pressing Pause. "One of my agents intercepted this transmission yesterday. We think someone is planning an attack on Amélie." _Keep it simple, keep it calm,_ he thinks. As long as he can convince them it's legitimate, he has nothing to worry about.

Gérard's expression is stormy. "Where did it come from?"

"I don't know. Athena hasn't been able to trace the signal," Gabriel explains, shaking his head. "I think we need to assign her safety."

Jack crosses his arms. It's just the three of them in the room; Ana's off doing some low-level reconnaissance, and so they're the highest-ranking members of Overwatch and Blackwatch available to discuss the threat. "What did you have in mind, Gabriel?"

The commander bites back an antagonistic retort and smooths out his tone as he says, "A personal bodyguard of sorts. We send her back home with -"

"Wait. Wait for one moment," Gérard interrupts, frowning. "If she is being threatened, the best thing is to keep her here, non? We have high security here, and from that recording I suspect they are watching our home. We cannot send her there, surely, out in the open," he points out, tone filled with consternation.

"We don't know how much we're going to be able to get out of this tap," Gabriel growls, "If we keep her here under protection they'll know we've compromised their communications, and they'll tighten their own security. We can't afford to -"

"The safety of my wife -" Gérard shouts.

Gabriel yells right back, completing the sentence for him. "- is less important than the potential safety of thousands! We use this leak to bust a bigger attack in the future and we save -"

"Do not presume to tell me -"

"Alright, alright, everyone just calm down," Jack orders, voice carrying over the both of them. Gabriel shuts up, fuming, and Gérard mutters something in French under his breath. "Do you already have someone in mind?" he asks Gabriel.

"Yeah," the commander answers. "Her name is Lena Oxton." He can see Jack's lips already forming the question of _who_ , and he says preemptively, "The Slipstream test pilot. She came out yesterday."

"You want my wife's safety in the hands of someone who has been anchored in reality for less than twenty-four hours?" Gérard asks, his stress showing through in his low voice.

Gabriel scowls. "She's spent years in the Slipstream, Lacroix. From her point of view, I'm told, she has almost a decade of combat experience." It's weird to refer to his second-in-command as Lacroix - he's used it for years now as a handle for Amélie.

"How do you know she's legit?" Jack asks.

Gabriel shrugs. "If you need proof..." he says, trailing off.

Gérard's jaw tightens. "Get her in the training range. And, Reyes, if you are wrong about her, Amélie goes under protection. You have once chance."

With that uncharacteristically angry statement, he leaves, and Gabriel's left alone with Jack. The Blackwatch commander ignores him and picks up the speaker, when he feels a hand on his arm. Gabriel jerks away from it, and turns to see Jack staring at him.

"Talk to me, Gabe," he says softly. "I can't help you if you won't tell me what I need to fix."

Gabriel grits his teeth, resisting the urge to punch his pretty-boy lights out. "I don't need your help," he growls.

Jack lets out a frustrated sound. "I don't _understand_. What happened? Is it Jesse? I have it from Angela that he's absolutely fine, Gabe -"

"I don't give a shit about him!" Gabriel yells suddenly, his anger boiling over. "Just leave it, Jack, understood? I don't want to fucking talk to you like I'm some fi've-year-old who needs to _share their feelings_."

Jack looks like Gabriel's physically slapped him across the face, and he doesn't say a word. So the Blackwatch commander storms out of the room, picking up his comm to contact Lena.

The Strike-Commander sits down, resting his head against steepled hands. Gabriel gets stressed, he knows this. And when Gabriel's stressed he pulls away from almost everyone around him, trying to fix the problem so intensely he hurts himself; but not Jesse. Never Jesse. The cowboy is a son to Gabriel, and even in his worst times Gabriel never pulls away from him. So for him to say that he doesn't give a shit about the kid (can Jack even still call him a kid? He's grown up so quickly) is a warning sign.

Jack thinks for a moment before pulling out his comm.

 _JACK MORRISON: Where are you?_  
 _GÉRARD LACROIX: On my way to the training room._  
GÉRARD LACROIX: If this is an attempt to make me look more favourably on Gabriel's plan, I am not interested.  
JACK MORRISON: I swear it's not, but we need to talk.  
JACK MORRISON: Come back to the briefing office. Same one.  
GÉRARD LACROIX: Give me two minutes.

True to his word, the spy arrives almost immediately, and Jack stands up as soon as he enters.

"Athena," he says, without waiting for a response, "enter non-surveillance mode."

"Affirmative, Strike-Commander. Halting video and audio recording," comes the synthesised voice's answer.

Gérard frowns. "What is this about?"

Jack plants his hands straight onto the table, trying to keep himself grounded. "Have you noticed anything wrong with Gabriel recently? I'm talking the past two days or so."

" _Oui_. He is more irritable. Closed off." Gérard answers. "But nothing out of the ordinary for him. Are you sure -"

"He's pulled back from Jesse," Jack interrupts.

Gérard stares. "Are you certain?"

Jack just nods.

The Frenchman's eyes narrow. "Something else must be going on."

"I just can't think _what_ ," Jack says, gritting his teeth. "He won't tell me anything."

Gérard gives Jack a nod. "I will keep an eye on him. Keep attempting to get him to open up," he advises, "and I will investigate under the radar."

There's a pause, both men running scenarios in their minds; one successfully, one stuck in a particular circular concern.

"How are you holding up?" Jack asks, breaking the silence. "With Amélie?"

"I..." begins Gérard, and he trails off, staring into space.

Jack frowns. "Gérard?"

"I did not see anything of the intelligence until Gabriel shared it," Gérard says slowly. "Usually... _non_ , it probably does not matter. Intercepted transmissions usually come through me first, is all, and it is a little suspicious I did not hear any of it. Even rumours," he adds, looking deep in thought.

Jack takes a breath. "It's probably nothing," he says, though he's not sure how much he believes his own words.

Gérard's comm buzzes then, and he takes it out and scans the screen for a second. "Gabriel has the new recruit in the training room. She is ready to demonstrate her abilities."

Jack nods, trying to ignore the fact that Gabriel didn't bother contacting him even though he and Gérard weren't together as far as he knew. "Lead on, then," he says, getting up and following the Frenchman. "Athena, end non-surveillance mode."

"Affirmative, Strike-Commander," Athena replies, but he's already gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who managed to update two fics in one day? thank you guys so much for keeping on kudosing and commenting, it makes me so motivated! please leave a comment telling me what you think if you're enjoying, or drop some kudos. :)

When Gabriel reaches the training room, Lena is already there. She's wearing a more early-looking model of her accelerator, and she's in her old cadet uniform. Gabriel sets his jaw.

"Oxton," he calls, and her head whips around to see him. "Are you ready?"

Lena nods, something hidden in her expression. "Yeah. What are we doing?"

Gabriel crosses his arms. "I told them you've got a decade of experience from being in the Slipstream. You're going to show them." His tone is firm.

"Okay," Lena says.

Gabriel locks eyes with her. "And don't even think about telling them anything about anyone else. Even McCree." His tone is undercut with such hardness he doesn't need to elaborate on the threat.

Lena swallows. "Fine," she concedes.

"Miss Oxton?" comes a voice, and both of them turn to see Jack walking in, a smile on his face. Gabriel can see Gérard enter behind him. "Good to meet you. I'm Strike-Commander Morrison."

Lena's face lights up at the sight of him, and she beams as she thrusts out her hand. "Call me Lena. Sir," she adds quickly.

"You are aware what we need you to demonstrate, correct?" Gérard asks, leaning against the wall and folding his arms.

Lena nods. "Yessir." She's at a slight loss for words in front of Jack, Gabriel realises. She thinks she hasn't seen him for years. She hasn't had the pleasure of finding out he's still alive in the future as Soldier: 76 like he has, and Gabriel feels his lip curl slightly at the thought. The golden boy gets away mostly unscathed, and Gabriel is left abandoned and ruined by Angela's -

Gabriel coughs to cover up the growl that rises in his throat, and Jack's eyes shoot to him.

"Are you okay to go ahead?" Jack asks.

Gabriel set his jaw. "Do it." He can't stop the frustration leaking into his tone; he's wasting time proving Lena's skill when what he needs to be doing is taking down Talon. He needs to be coordinating, planning, strategising against them and preventing his future. Gabriel can only vaguely remember those final months in Blackwatch leading up to the explosion, but he remembers with terrifying clarity the way Jack abandoned him to the mercy of the Talon agents within his organisation. He'll be damned if he's going to let everyone go through that again, let Talon drive him so far away from his allies that they can cleave Overwatch in two. If Gabriel's being honest, Jesse's words struck him hard. He didn't realise nobody knew, just assumed they'd all plotted against him. He can see the hints of insanity and unreason behind those thoughts clearly now, and it scares him. He doesn't want to ever be in that position again; doesn't ever want to lose the ability to trust his own mind. If Gabriel has a goal, taking down Talon, he won't lose focus. He'll be able to get through the clusterfuck that is 2069.

Gabriel jerks out of his reverie when Gérard comes to stand next to him, arms folded. Jack and Lena have gone down to the training floor together, and Gabriel tracks them closely.

"I appreciate your willingness to protect Amélie," he admits. "I never really imagined they would target her in lieu of me, but... I suppose I should have expected it."

Gabriel stares straight ahead, through the transparent barrier separating the viewing corridor from the training area. Jack is tapping a few commands into the simulator, and Lena is holding a pair of pulse pistols similar to her future, trademark pair while hopping up and down in the centre of the test stage. The Brit's smile is warm when she looks at Jack, despite Gabriel's threat hanging over her, and for a moment the Blackwatch commander feels something like nostalgia. He shakes it away before replying. "She's important. We need to be on the lookout for Talon." His tone is short, but not rude. After all, it's not like Gérard betrayed him; in Gabriel's mind, he's been dead for a decade.

Gabriel's so focused on Lena and Jack that he misses the look Gérard shoots sideways at him. "Who picked up the transmission, by the way? I would expect a member of my task force to come to me first."

Gabriel narrows his eyes slightly, and now he's alert with suspicion. "McCree," he answers. "Investigating a couple of tips about Deadlock resurgence when he picked up Talon comms and wanted to check with me first." Gabriel hasn't been dealing with the UN for years without learning to bullshit once in a while, and from Gérard's hum he seems to buy it. Gabriel'll tell Jesse to look out for questions from Gérard next time he sees him.

Jack funnels his hands from below and yells, "We're beginning now. Ready?"

Gérard shoots a glance at the silent Gabriel before he shouts back, "Ready."

Lena grins, and says something that makes Jack laugh. Something twists in Gabriel's gut, and the Strike-Commander hits the start button.

The hall goes dark for a couple of seconds before it lights up again in bright white, floodlights trained on Lena. Sections of the floor open up around the secure starting spot, sliding back to reveal pillars sliding upwards. Buildings and obstacles build themselves around Lena, and Gabriel can see her eagerness in the way she grins when the final piece clicks into place.

The first sound is the mechanised buzzing of servos from the bots that whirr into life, appearing from all around the training room. Lena takes a breath and then she goes, blinking out of existence to a couple of feet further.

" _Merde_!" Gérard swears, jerking backwards. Jack's face is a portrait of surprise. Gabriel remembers having the same reaction when he first saw her blink, recalls Jesse's string of Spanish curses.

Lena blinks again and comes up right behind a bot, shooting it square in the chest and blinking as it collapses. She whirls through them like a ghost, appearing and disappearing faster than Gabriel can see her. He's impressed with the way she counts her bullets, able to keep track of even the rapid-firing pulses. Lena slams the butt into a bot and spins it in her hand, reloading as she does so, and blinks again. Gabriel spots Jack reaching for the controls; he types something in deliberately, frowning in thought. Lena finishes the last bot that Gabriel can see, taking a breath and looking around. There's an expression of pleasure on her face.

That's when the doors at the end of the hangar open, and a cluster of bots appear at the exact same time.

Lena blinks to avoid the first hail of rounds, ducking behind cover. She pops out and unloads her pistols into a couple of bots, leaving one collapsed and the other sparking, before she darts away again. The strategy continues for several bots' worth of time before Jack inputs something else Gabriel can't see, and the remaining couple stop firing. Lena pokes her head out and starts to fire, and she's halfway into her magazine when the bots release a barrage of bullets and she's caught by several.

"Bloody hell!" Gabriel hears her curse, and then blue light envelops her as the accelerator whirrs and Lena rewinds. Gérard's face is filled with shock now, staring intently at her. She approaches the bots differently this time, sneaking from behind and blinking between them as she fires straight into them, one pistol aimed at each enemy. She jumps and flips upside-down as she delivers the final blow; the bot's bodies hit the ground at the same time as she does, and Lena blows a lock of hair out of her face.

"Simulation complete," Athena announces, and Jack shuts down the console. The room flashes dark before it's illuminated again, this time with the slightly dimmed regular lighting of the Headquarters.

Lena lets out a satisfied sigh. "So," she prompts, tone exhilarated.

"Where the hell did you learn to fight like that?" Jack asks, awe in his voice.

Lena looks up at the viewing platform, locking eyes with Gabriel's focused stare for a moment. "I spent quite a while in the Slipstream, but I don't remember most of it. Guess I did a lot of combat, sir," she shrugs, grinning, but the vague explanation seems to satisfy Jack.

The Strike-Commander tips his head towards the stairs, and both of them head back up to Gérard and Gabriel.

"Extremely impressive, Miss Oxton," Jack says, smiling at her. "I'd like to process your paperwork early, if that suits you, to make you an official agent."

Lena beams at him. "Thank you, sir!" she exclaims. Gabriel resists the urge to roll his eyes.

Gérard steps forward, uncrossing his arms. "I am impressed. Are you aware of the job we have in mind for you?"

Lena nods. "Yep. The Commander briefed me," she adds, nodding at Gabriel. "Bodyguard duty. Sir," she says, almost an afterthought.

"Do you think you are up to it?" the spy questions.

The Brit nods, determination in her gaze. "Yessir. You can count on me."

Jack consults the tablet in his hands. "Well, you have broken a couple of records. I'll speak to Winston and determine if that... what is that called?" he asks, trailing off.

Lena glances down at the glowing device on her chest. "Oh, the chronal accelerator?"

"Alright, if the accelerator is dependable enough for you to rely on those little teleports to help you in combat," Jack finishes.

Lena mutters, "Blinks."

Gabriel meets her eyes, and for a moment he wants to share a smirk with her at the remark. He tamps down on it, though. _Focus on the job, Gabriel_.

"Are we done?" Gérard asks.

Jack hesitates, looking at Gabriel. "Gabe?"

"Sure. If you're happy," Gabriel says, looking at the Frenchman.

"I am. _Merci_ ," Gérard replies. "I will return to consult my wife, if I am not needed right this second."

Gabriel nods at him. "Go for it."

Gérard leaves with respectful nods to all three of them, borne out of equal rank and new respect for Lena, and Jack starts to move towards Gabriel. He tenses, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Lena dart forwards.

"Strike-Commander?" she asks, reaching out to touch his elbow lightly.

Jack turns. "Yes, Miss Oxton?"

Lena starts asking some random, convoluted question Gabriel doesn't listen to, and he realises she's giving him an out. She must understand how the idea of interacting with Jack fills him with anger, and she's trying to avoid it. Smart. Gabriel strides out of the room, leaving Lena talking at a trapped-looking Jack who stares after the commander.

 

 

"Yo, McCree," comes a voice, and Jesse turns to see Sangre approaching. He's unloading his kit into his locker and unbuckling his Blackwatch armour, and still trying not to look at his left arm. He stops when she greets him, though, twisting round on the bench.

"We got a mission. You up to it?" she asks, and Jesse frowns.

"We just got back," he points out, and the older woman shrugs.

"Nia's team got held up in Pakistan," she explains. "Technically it's their turn, but we got picked in the draw for a replacement."

Jesse groans. "Seriously?"

Sangre holds up her hands. "Blame Bourne. He picked the short straw."

Jesse sighs. He remembers suddenly being put on this rotation with Bourne and Sangre and the rest of them, having to leave the special place he carved out for himself on Gabriel's team and not understanding why. It sucked then, and it's no better now. "Fine," he says. "I ain't doin' anythin' else after this, though," he adds, in a warning tone, and Sangre grins.

"I get you," she tells him. "We can sit and be lazy shits together, huh?"

Jesse grimaces. He can't recall exactly which way Sangre will lean, whether it's betrayal or death, but he knows he feels on edge around her. "What's the brief?" he asks, turning over Peacekeeper in his hands. It's still new right now, he remembers; he got it a couple of weeks before he lost his arm.

"Los Muertos activity," Sangre replies, crossing her arms and leaning to one side. "There's been an attack on the CEO of Lumérico in Dorado. We traced the hack to a suspected Muertos base."

Jesse frowns. "Hack? You know who?"

Sangre shrugs. "No. But whoever it is, they're not that good. Left markers all over the goddamn place." She shifts again then, a spark of anticipation shooting across her face. "So gear up, we're leaving in five," she finishes, and flashes him a grin as she heads off to her own locker on the opposite side of the room.

Jesse rolls his eyes as he reaches for his armour, clipping it into place securely and reattaching his holster to it. He doesn't remember this mission that well; in fact, he doesn't know if it ever happened. Maybe he's just foggy from the years that have passed, but... Jesse's gut isn't often wrong.

It takes him four minutes to finish equipping himself with comms, a fresh emergency kit and ammunition, and sixty seconds to get to the hangar. It's an efficient process, Bourne and Sangre already onboard, and a couple of the others lagging slightly behind. Jesse nods to Mina and Adeyemi as they enter the dropship, and soon they're in the atmosphere and away.

"Alright, guys, flight time is about half an hour," Sangre says from the back of the ship. "I'm taking lead on this mission, so when we touch down in Dorado all comms on silent. We're using stealth; no need for them to know we're there unless we engage in combat on our terms. Clear?"

"Clear," Jesse mutters, along with the others. He feels panic at the thought of leaving Lena, his only ally in this (because he sure as hell doesn't trust past Winston, who barely knows either of them) behind with Gabriel and Amélie. Truth be told he's still reeling from the revelation that Gabriel has been alive this whole time as Reaper, the man responsible for so much death and pain and bloodshed. Jesse can't reconcile the masked terrorist with the man who used to be his father in all but blood.

Jesse's always had a habit of getting lost in his own thoughts, and so it seems like no time at all before the dropship whirrs and settles on solid ground. Sangre shoots up to standing.

"Alright, the key here is stealth. We're on the outskirts of the town right now, so we'll fan out and track through the centre to the base. Wait for my signal before you go in."

The others nod, and Sangre hits the button to lower the ship's door. Jesse stands as it starts to descend, looking out into Dorado. He can see terracotta buildings illuminated by warm sunlight, colourful clothing hung over several balcony rails on the houses, a twisting cobbled street before them, and a figure in a hoodie spraying graffiti on the building closest to them. Jesse narrows his eyes, recognising the stylised skull motif; Los Muertos.

Sangre makes the connection instantly and yells, "Stop!"

The figure freezes and spins around before sprinting away, and Sangre chases after her.

"Fan out and intercept!" she shouts back. "Could be a lead!"

It's not what they're here for but the leader's ordered it, and so Jesse takes the leftmost route, the agents flanking the target on both sides. Mina runs beside him, gaze flicking all over the street. They come to a split in the road and the Asian woman continues right and disappears from view. Jesse goes left again, keeping his eyes peeled. The thudding of his feet matches the rhythmic beating of his heart perfectly, pulling him into that focused zone within his mind. He ducks his head into a couple of buildings as he passes, but the tagger is nowhere to be seen.

"Fuck's sake," he mutters. Nobody's come over the comms to confirm they've found the target, and if the other agents gone as far as he has it's likely the Los Muertos member has got away.

" _Hola_ ," comes a female voice, and Jesse spins round. There's a figure in a dark, slightly paint-stained hoodie leaning against the wall, observing him. Jesse raises his gun.

"Take your hood down," he orders. If this is a Los Muertos member, if it's the target they've been chasing, she'll likely have glowing decals covering her face, and he needs to confirm it before he does anything

" _Ay_ , chill out, Jesse, drop the gun," she drawls, and flips the hood back.

Jesse stares. "Sombra?" he asks.

Sombra's resplendent purple hair is shorter than it is in the future, and her outfit is a little more rudimentary, but the hacker is still easily identifiable. "So we're back in the past, huh?" she comments.

Jesse wants to lower the gun, but in reality he can't predict Sombra. Peacekeeper stays up, although he relaxes his grip a little. "Yeah, we're all at Zurich. 'Cept you, of course."

Sombra shrugs, idly checking her nails. "Pfft, I tried to get in secretly. Couldn't figure out just how, though, so I decided to get you to help me." She smiles then, a self-satisfied Cheshire grin.

"How?" Jesse asks, frowning.

Sombra's grin widens. "Cuff me," she says, outstretching her arms.

Jesse's eyes narrow. "What?"

"Cuff me," she repeats. "Catch the scary Los Muertos hacker slash graffiti artist and drag me back to Zurich, _¿comprende?_ "

"You left the markers for us to find," Jesse says, the pieces clicking. "This your way of gettin' in undetected? Gettin' arrested?"

Sombra shrugs. "Gabe can get me out once I'm inside."

Jesse sets his jaw. "You knew about him?"

"Of course I knew, _vaquero_ ," Sombra tells him, rolling her eyes. "It's my business to know everything. _Boop_ ," she adds, laughing, and when Jesse frowns she waves a hand. "Inside joke."

Jesse eyes the hacker, still in her nonchalant position. What she's saying makes sense, and it's not like she can do a huge amount of damage if he restrains her with ED omnic cuffs. He digs into his emergency kit and brings out a pair, switching them on and waiting for the lights to whirr into life before he unclips them.

"Fine," Jesse agrees. "C'mere."

Sombra eyes them. "Those look like electrical disruptor cuffs."

Jesse raises an eyebrow. "No shit, that's 'cause they are."

"I'm not wearing those," she announces. "I never turn my implants off."

"You want in, you'll let me put these on you."

Sombra scowls. "Fine, _puto_. But I'm not wearing them for any more than I need to."

Jesse reaches for her wrists, half-admiring the way purple streaks are drawn along her hands, and clips the cuffs together. There's no indication they're on apart from the slight dimming of Sombra's wrist decals.

The hacker shudders. "I hate EDs."

Jesse smirks at her, though it's more good-natured than mean. "Sorry, _princesa_." He puts a hand to his ear as he takes hold of Sombra's arm, turning back to where he knows the dropship is. "I got the runner. Repeat, I got the runner. We headin' back to the ship, or what?"

Sangre orders, "If we have intel we're going back. I don't think there's much extra to get from this, so get back ASAP."  
Bourne's voice comes over the comms, strong and clear. "Understood."  
Jesse's glad Sombra's a willing participant in this, because he doesn't have to literally drag her to the dropship. "You need to start strugglin' when we see the others. Act like a real captive," he tells her, and she rolls her eyes and nods.

" _Sí, sí_ , I know."

Jesse didn't get far from the dropship before he found Sombra, so it takes the two of them significantly less time than the others to get back. They're waiting for about five minutes before Sangre and Adeyemi come into view, closely followed by Mina. Bourne is nowhere to be seen.

"This her?" Sangre asks, slowing to a stroll.

Sombra scowls, but before she opens her mouth Jesse cuts in. "Yeah, but she only speaks Spanish."

" _Eres un idioto_ ," Sombra mutters.

"Take her, then, McCree. Your responsibility. I forgot that shit a long time ago," Sangre drawls.

Jesse rolls his eyes. Sangre is Latina, like half of him, but _unlike_ Jesse she seems to have no interest in her heritage. Jesse's never understood why. "You owe me for this, Sangre," he remarks, and he feels Sombra elbow him subtly. Jesse nudges her back.

Sangre waves dismissively, though there's a grin on her face, and she heads up the ramp into the dropship. The others follow quickly behind, and Jesse pauses for a minute, squinting to search the shaded sections of the streets. There's nobody there.

"You waiting for someone?" Sombra murmurs in Spanish

Jesse frowns. "One of the team isn't back, even though he checked in. Name's Bourne."

Sombra tilts her head. "Jason Bourne?"

Jesse resists the urge to chuckle audibly, and Sombra grins.

"Nah, just kidding," she says. "Is it... Michael Bourne?"

Jesse thinks for a second. "Yeah, I think so. You know him?"

"He's part of Talon," Sombra tells him airily. "He's one of the Blackwatch moles."

Jesse curses. "Fuckin' knew it. What's he doin'?"

"Bailing out Los Muertos, probably. Letting them know you're onto them," Sombra says. "It wasn't him in the past, but... whatever." She shrugs.

"What do you mean?"

"I joined up with Talon after this raid. They came to recruit a couple of members to save them from Blackwatch. I hopped right on. It wasn't Bourne in the past but then I didn't leave those markers, so..." Sombra trails off, letting Jesse draw his own conclusions.

"Hope nothin' else has changed," Jesse mutters. "Can't stop it if we don't know it's comin'."

Sombra nods.

"You know, I don't know why everyone says you're such a shit," Jesse remarks. "You ain't that bad."

Sombra laughs. "Only because I'm not charging you right now."

Jesse's about to reply when Bourne appears in view suddenly, face twisted in a scowl.

"Fuckers took my comms," he says, loud enough for Jesse to hear.

"How'd you get away?" Jesse asks, frowning as he switches to English.

Bourne draws level with the ramp and heads in, Jesse and Sombra following. He doesn't ask who she is. "Snuck out after knocking one of them cold. The idiots aren't organised enough to concentrate on more than one thing at once."

Jesse presses the close button, and the golden glow of the Dorado sun shuts off gradually. Sangre looks round, catching sight of Bourne, and nods at Jesse as thanks. He guides Sombra to one of the seats opposite Mina, who's already strapped in, and does up her safety restraints for her.

" _Mi héroe_ ," Sombra whispers snarkily, smirking.

Jesse straps himself in beside her as the others take their places. Sangre winks at him, and mouths thanks. Jesse assumes it's for retrieving Sombra and making her mission a success, and he grins back at her as the ship starts to vibrate softly around them. They lift up and off the ground, and they're flying back to Zurich.

 

 

In that moment, the other Blackwatch dropship currently in flight is on a path from Zurich to Annecy, nearing its destination and carrying two passengers.

"I cannot tell you how grateful I am for you to be doing this," Gérard says, sincerity mixed with worry in his voice.

Lena grins. "My pleasure. I'll keep her safe."

Gérard nods. "Thank you," he says, gratitude clear in his voice.

Lena looks out of the window, at the crystal sea they're currently flying over. They're in stealth mode, avoiding Talon detection, and so they're high enough in the atmosphere for the ocean to take on that special sheen that makes it look so magical.

She's not sure how it happened, but she's genuinely worried about Amélie. The sniper started as a kind of enemies-to-lovers beginning, that trope Lena reads in fanfiction all the time, and Lena was happy to flirt along as long as it was harmless. It wasn't actually going anywhere; it was a joke, a secret between them that Lena's not sure why they had in the first place. Now, though, Amélie seems genuinely distraught at her position. Seeing her long-dead husband... Lena can't imagine what she must be feeling. It's definitely worse than Lena's own pining for Emily. Winston said she wouldn't even be aware, but... Lena can't help thinking Emily is stuck in the future, missing her. Lena is definitely feeling Emily's absence, after all.

Lena's seen pictures of the Lacroix home in surveillance footage, and in scenes of the crime when they found Gérard's body. No image has done justice to the house, though, and as Annecy comes into view Lena's eyes widen. It's practically a mansion, tall and proud. She can spot multiple security measures around the place from here already, as the dropship coasts lower.

Gérard starts unbuckling his safety harness. "We're descending," he informs Lena.

"Thank you, Captain," she says, nodding. That is Gérard's title, isn't it? She's pretty sure of it, but Lena only knew Gérard for a couple of weeks before Amélie - Widowmaker - killed him.

The Blackwatch captain is first out of the shuttle's door, heading straight from the helipad to a side entrance. He unlocks it swiftly, going through a physical, biometric and electronic lock before the door opens to admit him and Lena.

" _Chérie_?" he calls, voice resounding through the house. "I have someone I'd like you to meet."

Amélie appears almost instantly, coming from the opposite wing. She's wearing a floaty dress that belies her elegance, but there's a spark behind her eyes that shows her dislike. Lena's mouth goes dry. "Who is this?" the sniper asks, feigning ignorance.

Gérard gestures at Lena, who smiles. Amélie's eyes flash slightly. "This is Agent Lena Oxton," he says. "She has been assigned to protect you."

Amélie raises her chin. "Pleasure to meet you," she says, though there's ice in her tone as she holds her hand out.

Lena shakes it. "Pleasure's mine," she replies formally.

Gérard checks his watch. " _Merde_ , I must take my leave. Do you have everything you need, Agent Oxton?"

Lena nods. "Yup! I'll just ask Am - uh, Ms. Lacroix if I need anything."

Gérard looks relieved. "Good. See you later, my love," he says, kissing Amélie on the cheek. She doesn't pull away, but Lena can see her fists tightening at the gesture. Gérard says nothing else as he hurries back, leaving back to the helipad. Lena and Amélie are left alone.

"So," Lena says.

Amélie jabs a finger at her. "I will not let you jeopardise my relationship with Gérard. Do not tell him _anything_ ," she warns.

"Of course not, luv," Lena protests. "I won't tell anyone anything unless we all agree."

"Hm," Amélie hums, looking down at the diminutive Brit. "If you say so."

"Look," Lena says, "I'm protecting you. Maybe we should try and -"

Amélie juts her chin forward. " _Non_. I do not need protection," she states stubbornly. "I can handle myself. And my Kiss."

"But that isn't here, luv," Lena points out. "You don't get any weapons now."

Amélie glares at her. "I am not weak."

Lena meets her gaze, resolute. "I never said you were weak, luv."

"Stop calling me 'luv'," Amélie tells her disdainfully. "I have no use for idiotic nicknames."

Lena bites a retort back.

Amélie looks the other way, seeming to make a mental decision before she sits, folding gracefully onto the stone step below. Lena follows suit, crossing her legs.

"You do not need to copy my every move."

"Yeah, but it's awkward if I'm standing, innit?" Lena retorts.

Amélie rolls her eyes. "Fine. I hope your protection is not going to comprise of copying and useless small talk," she says, and Lena frowns.

"It's gonna save your life, that's what,"

"My life is not in danger!" Amélie snaps. "Gabriel will come to get me if anything goes wrong. I do not need you or _anyone_ else."

"He's not smoky anymore, Amélie. He's vulnerable now," Lena says gently. "You need to start trusting someone besides him."

"I do not trust him," the Frenchwoman tosses back. "Trust is for fools and romantics. I trust his motives. If something happens to me Talon will reclaim him and Ziegler will ruin him. He will keep me safe."

Lena is about to argue the problems of trusting someone based entirely on their selfishness when she stops. "Wait, Ziegler? You mean Angela? Mercy?"

Amélie's face twists unpleasantly. "Of course. Although she certainly showed no _mercy_ to Gabriel."

"What are you on about, luv?" Lena asks, momentarily forgetting in her confusion.

"Angela Ziegler turned Gabriel into Reaper. She should have left him dead," Amélie says matter-of-factly.

Lena frowns. "No way that's true. Ange wouldn't do that!" she protests.

Amélie eyes her. "I assure you, Gabriel tells me it was Angela's fault. And when she saw her failure, she abandoned him to be found by Talon. His condition was her fault entirely."

Lena goes quiet. Amélie's making it up. She must be. Angela is a _good_ person; she's sacrificed so much over the years to help people, and she's patched Lena up countless times. She's the reason their team's still kicking. Surely she wouldn't have done anything like that?

"I do not know how much longer I can do this," Amélie says suddenly.

Lena glances at her. "Do what?"

"Keep up this... this _façade_ ," she confesses. "With Gérard. I am supposed to love him. I should be grateful for this second chance with him, but... I cannot bear it, Lena," she ends quietly. It's the first time she's used Lena's first name.

The Brit puts a light hand on her shoulder, but she doesn't flinch. "It's okay, luv. We'll figure it out." _Together_ , she wants to say.

Amélie looks her in the eyes. "Thank you," she says. The words seem like they're hard to say, and a moment passes while Lena's staring into her dark eyes before Amélie retracts slightly and seems to pull into herself. "I should show you your sleeping arrangements. Follow me," she commands, standing up and stalking away.

Lena scrambles to her feet. "Sure," she agrees, blinking once to catch Amélie up. The Frenchwoman is even more beautiful with a healthy skin colour, with the sparkling in her eyes instead of empty space. Lena thinks about their encounters in the future, about their mock-flirting with each other. An image floats across her mind of Amélie in full Widowmaker getup, in that costume -

 _Bloody hell, I'm cheating on my future girlfriend with an ex-widow_ , Lena thinks, cursing herself mentally. _Or at least thinking of cheating_. She mentally smacks herself, returning to the present, where Amélie has stopped outside a large guest room.

"This is yours," she says simply. "My room is three doors to the left. Do not come in unannounced."

That's all she says to Lena before she stalks off towards said room, shutting the door behind her and leaving Lena in the corridor, slightly stunned.

This is _not_ going to be easy.


	7. Chapter 7

Gabriel's comm buzzes, and he flips it upwards.

_JESSE MCCREE: Get down to the holding cells.  
JESSE MCCREE: I found Sombra._

"Fucking finally," Gabriel mutters, snatching up his things and striding out of his office. Despite the years he still knows this base like the back of his hand, and he carves through the facility in no time at all.

When he opens the door to the interrogation cells, deep in the belly of Zurich, Jesse is already waiting with a Latina redhead whom Gabriel struggles to remember. Sangre, he thinks her name is, though he can't recall her first.

Sangre steps into a tight salute when Gabriel appears, breaking off their discussion. Jesse stays in the same position, arms crossed, although his eyes narrow slightly.

"At ease," Gabriel says. "What happened?"

Sangre answers, relaxing, "Mission to Dorado, sir. We found her while scouting Los Muertos after the Portero hack."

Jesse flashes Gabriel a stare, and he scowls. "Good. Leave it to me," he orders, and Sangre nods, walking out when he jerks his head towards the door. She shoots Jesse a look that says _what are you doing get out here_ , but Jesse ignores it and Sangre disappears.

"She's in there," Jesse says, jerking his head to the left. Gabriel sees Sombra sitting there behind the one-way glass, looking bored and tapping her fingers on the desk.

"What happened?" he asks.

Jesse shrugs. "Baited us into splittin' up to find her then snuck up on me. Says she wants in."

Gabriel scowls. "Fuck's sake," he swears. "In to what?"

The cowboy shrugs again, watching Gabriel intently. "I dunno. Was waitin' for you before I talked to her."

Gabriel drags a hand down his face, sighing. "Fine. Athena," he barks, waiting for the AI's reply.

"Yes, Commander Reyes?" she enquires coolly.

"Halt recording until I turn it back on. And disable monitoring systems."

Athena cautions, "Commander, I must warn you this is an unwise decision."

Gabriel snaps, "I don't care. Just do it."

"Very well," she acquiesces, a gentle whirring sounding as the cameras click off. Gabriel stalks over to the door and wrenches it open, causing Sombra to look up instantly. A wide smile breaks across her face.

" _Gabrielito_!" she cries. "Jesus, finally. What took you so long?"

Gabriel represses a snarl and moves into the room, going to shut the door when a boot lodges in it. His head jerks up to see Jesse standing there, and he pushes his way past Gabriel inside.

Gabriel growls, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Makin' sure you don't do somethin' we'll all regret," Jesse says, warning in his tone. "I won't disturb you."

True to his word, Jesse heads straight for the corner behind Sombra, leaning against the wall and watching them both. His distrust is obvious. Gabriel fumes, striding over to Sombra and slamming his hands on the table. To her credit, she doesn't flinch.

"What the fuck do you want, Sombra?" Gabriel growls.

The hacker shrugs. "Eh, I want a lot of things. Be more specific."

"What do you want from _us_?" the commander hisses, already angry at Sombra's games.

She shrugs. "I want to be on the winning side, Gabe." He hisses at the nickname, but she continues regardless. "Talon in the future, but... now you're back here it's Overwatch. So I want in." She spreads her hands as far as she's able within the cuffs, grinning like that nightmarish cat Gabriel remembers from some stupid children's film back in his childhood. "I want to be a Blackwatch agent."

Gabriel pauses. "You're fucking joking."

Sombra tilts her head. "No," she says.

"No fucking way are you getting near Blackwatch," Gabriel yells, losing his temper. "We just got back here and I'm not having you fucking it all up again, _puta_!"

Sombra's mouth twists. "You want me to tell everyone the truth, then? You know I can. You _know_ what I did to Helix's reputation after we broke Doomfist out, Gabe. You know I can make everyone know the truth. And then..." She chuckles, and Jesse shifts from the corner of Gabriel's view. "They'll kill you, _pobrecito_ ," she mocks, and Gabriel bares his teeth.

"No fucking way I'm letting you in, you little -"

"She ain't done any worse than you," Jesse interrupts unexpectedly, glaring straight at Gabriel, who stares back with incensed eyes. "And besides, she went the same route as me, 'cept she didn't have someone to pull her out like I did. She needs a chance too."

Sombra stares at Jesse, obviously shocked at his defense of her, but Gabriel rounds on him. "Like you can fucking talk, ingrate. I gave you so much and you threw it back in my face like _all the others_ -"

"I didn't do a fuckin' thing!" Jesse yells, stepping forwards with clenched fists. "You were the one who blew up the fuckin' HQ and left us, Gabe, _you_ did that!"

Gabriel falters, the rage spinning in his head subsiding slightly. "You think... you think _I_ bombed Zurich?"

Jesse's gaze is furious. "Don't play dumb with me. I ain't stupid, no matter what you think. Nobody else coulda done it."

"It wasn't me," Gabriel hisses, the instinct to wraith away rising in him despite his lack of nanites. "It was all of you bastards, you, Morrison, all those fucking goody-ass two-shoes Strike Team members, that little fucking British shit, _Angela_ -"

"Why in the fuck would we do that?" Jesse shouts, gesturing wildly. "Morrison fuckin' _died_ , right after Ana, and I thought you did too. You think I killed my own fuckin' family? Jesus, Gabe, what the hell do you think of me?"

"Why the shit would I tear Overwatch down, ingrate? It was my _dream_! And you think I blew _myself_ up?"

Sombra says faintly, "Guys."

Jesse yells, "I don't fuckin' know you any more! You're one of those Talon motherfuckers now, Gabe, I don't know what to think!"

"I joined Talon because you assholes _killed me-_ "

"I told you, we _fuckin' didn't_!"

" _Pendejos_!" Sombra interrupts, glaring at them. Both men stop instantly, staring at the hacker with angry gazes. "We have work to do. Stop measuring your dicks."

"Don't fucking try with me, Sombra!" Gabriel roars, jerking closer, and this time the Latina woman physically flinches away from him.

"Reyes, calm the hell down!" Jesse says, tone full of warning, hand straying to his side. Peacekeeper.

There's an audible click then, and Gabriel curses violently. "I told you to turn off monitoring, Athena!"

"This isn't Athena," comes a voice over the intercom, and Gabriel blanches. The one-way glass shimmers into two-way, and all three occupants of the room see Ana Amari, standing there with distrust in her eyes and her hand on the microphone button.

"What the hell are you doing, Ana?"

Ana looks him straight in the eye, unsmiling. "You will tell me who you are and what you have done with Gabriel Reyes and Jesse McCree right now, or you are never leaving this room."

"Shit," Jesse curses, as he rattles the doorhandle. "It's locked."

"Who are you?" Ana asks calmly.

Gabriel scowls. "For fuck's sake," he mutters. "Gabriel."

"I don't believe you. Gabriel Reyes is not a member of Talon," she rebuts.

Jesse sighs. "Ana, it's a long story."

"Then start explaining."

Sombra tips her head back, sighing. "Just tell her, _Gabrielito_."

Gabriel presses his lips together. "She won't believe us."

Ana folds her arms, still watching them. "Try me."

"We're from the future," Jesse says. "You know Tracer? Lena, uh... the new recruit?"

Ana nods, gaze dangerous. "Don't tell me she's one of you. If Amélie is in danger -"

"Amélie's with us too," Gabriel growls.

Ana blanches for a second before masking it, carrying on smoothly. "Why are you here?"

"Not by fucking choice," Gabriel mutters.

Jesse says, "We don't know, ma'am. We don't know what's happenin' save we got a chance to fix the future."

Ana scoffs. "No one except you calls me ma'am, Jesse. Do you swear you're telling the truth?"

Jesse nods at her. "Cross my heart, _umi_."

Ana's eyes soften slightly at the nickname, but when she turns to Gabriel they're cold. "And you?"

"What?" he growls.

The captain glares. "Tell me something only Gabriel would know."

Gabriel scowls at her for a second, thinking. It takes him longer than he'd like to dredge up a truly unique memory, but he finally finds it in the recesses of the original Omnic Crisis. It's still one of his strongest memories, and only he, Ana and a league of omnics were present. "You started giving birth to Fareeha in the middle of a fight with three Bastions," he says. "And I to fight my way out harder than ever before to get you to medical."

Ana eyes him. "And what happened next?"

Gabriel's voice seems to quiet slightly as he remembers. "The dropship didn't arrive in time, and I had to... goddamn, I had to help Liao do it himself." His tone takes on a wistful quality.

The breath seems to leave her. "It is you," she sighs, sounding weary. "You're with... with Talon now? What happened to you, Gabriel?"

The commander clenches his fists, hardening once again. "Everything," he mutters.

Jesse says, "He ain't with them no more. We're startin' again in the past."

"How?" asks Ana. "What are you fixing?"

Jesse pauses, looking at the darkly fuming Gabriel. "I think we need to have this conversation with someone else as well."

Gabriel's gaze flicks up. "What?"

"Winston knows," Jesse says simply.

"The fucking _monkey_? I said tell nobody -"

"He overheard us, okay? Jesus Christ, calm down," Jesse mutters. "I ain't that happy about it either, but he overheard me and Lena talkin'. We gotta explain it to him. He can help. And we can plan the timeline out more now we got Sombra -"

"How many goddamn people know now, then? Who's next?" Gabriel asks angrily.

Jesse glares at him. "Only him and Ana. And nobody's next as long as we're careful."

"It hasn't even been a week and two people know. That's not fucking careful if you ask me," Gabriel snarls.

Ana gapes at them from behind the glass, face a mask of shock as she stares at Gabriel. He tries to ignore the feeling of her eyes on him, and instead turns away from both her and Jesse. _Fucking idiots._ There's so much at stake, and Jesse doesn't seem to care about anything beyond antagonising Gabriel.

"I'll take that explanation now, then," Ana says, complexion slightly pale.

Jesse nods. "We should get Winston." He checks his watch then, frowning. Gabriel remembers, vaguely, giving the silver timepiece to Jesse for his twentieth birthday. Telling him to keep it safe and close. "Shit, it's nearly time for Amélie."

Ana watches them suspiciously from behind the glass, not understanding what they're talking about. Gabriel says, "We wait until we know she's safe. I'm not abandoning her." Amélie is the only one who's gone through anything like what he has, and he'll be damned if he lets her lose herself again.

Jesse pauses, eyeing him. "Okay," he agrees finally. "We'll tell you everythin' in a few hours, but we need to wait for the others," he elaborates, addressing Ana.

"What do you intend to do in the meantime?" the captain asks.

Jesse shrugs. "Keep our cover. Maybe start investigatin' Blackwatch, or carry on mappin' out the future."

Ana seems to turn over something in her mind, eyes flicking between Gabriel and Jesse. "Fine. But I'll be keeping a close eye on all of you until I get an explanation, understood?"

Jesse nods. "Understood, ma'am."

Gabriel scowls. "Fine."

Ana looks at him for a long moment, questioning in her eyes before she steps forward wordlessly and unlocks the door.

"Athena," she says, eyes still locked on the three anachronisms.

"Yes, Captain Amari?"

"Please update the locations of Gabriel Reyes and Jesse McCree every five minutes to my comm," Ana requests.

Athena's tone is slightly confused as she asks, "Of course, Captain. Is anything wrong?"

Ana shakes her head, even though the AI's cameras are still off. "No. I'd like this command to be private. Oh, and you can resume monitoring. Thank you," she adds. She cocks her head, looking straight at Gabriel. "I'm watching you," she threatens, tapping her tattooed eye, and walks out of their view.

Jesse goes over to the door and opens it, and a feeling of relief washes over all of them when it actually clicks open.

"Let's go, Sombra," he says, holding the door open for the suspiciously quiet hacker. She doesn't move. "Sombra," Jesse repeats, and sighs when she stays silent.

He crosses over and shakes her shoulder, and she murmurs, " _No, quiero dormir_..."

"Is she fuckin' asleep?" Jesse asks rhetorically, eyes narrowed. "Hey, _idiota_ , wake up."

Sombra lets out a protracted groan and raises her head, hair hanging limply in front of her face. "You're such a dick," she mumbles, and Jesse rolls his eyes.

"For someone who loves information you just missed a hell of a lot, _princesa_."

She waggles her eyebrows at him. "No worries. My tech records everything - _mierda_!" she hisses suddenly. "I don't have my audio recorder in this _pinche_ time!" Sombra devolves rapidly into angry Spanish, switching between cursing the past and herself.

Jesse tugs at her. "Save it. We gotta save our necks with Ana first."

Sombra glares at him. " _Culo_. I hate you."

Jesse smirks at her. "Hate you too."

Gabriel rolls his eyes, having watched the whole debate. "Shut up," he growls, and for a second he's transported back to a younger Jesse squabbling with the newly-recruited Genji. He shakes himself out of it instantly, cursing himself. _Get it together._

Jesse eyes him, amused expression wiped off his face. He glares for a second before he walks out of the room after Ana. Sombra shoots Gabriel a look, standing up.

"You need to calm down, Gabe," she says, tone oddly serious. "You have another chance, _idioto_ , isn't that what you wanted?"

Gabriel scowls at her. "I can't fix what happened in the future."

Sombra hums. "You're haven't even tried, _Gabrielito_." With that she strolls out of the room, hands still shackled together, and Gabriel hears voices as she disappears from his line of sight and reconvenes with Jesse.

The commander grits his teeth, pressing the bases of his hands to his eyes. _Why does this have to be so fucking_ complicated? he thinks. All he wants is -

That's when he realises.

With mounting horror, Gabriel realises exactly what he wants. He wants to be truly in the past, free of his actions as Reaper, free of the knowledge of his impending destruction. He wants to be able to talk to Jack without ripping his head off. He wants Jesse to look at him like he's something other than a monster again. He wants to share the easy banter he remembers with the rest of the original strike team. Christ, Reinhardt, Torbjörn... he hasn't seen them once since he arrived. Gabriel's spent so long hating everyone that it hasn't even occurred to him how lonely he is. And now, without the nanites communicating to him constantly, the absence of companionship is painfully prominent.

"Fuck," Gabriel mutters, well aware he's gone through this exact phase multiple times already, ending up on his own with conflicting emotions coursing through him.

"Is everything alright, Commander Reyes?" Athena asks, making Gabriel jump. He'd forgotten she was actively monitoring again.

"Fine," Gabriel murmurs. "Thank you," he says, slightly quieter.

Athena's voice is warm. "You are welcome, Commander."

Gabriel walks out of the room. "Wait," he calls, and in the hall before him the hacker and the gunslinger turn.

"What?" Jesse asks.

"Need another eye on the Lacroix op?" Gabriel asks, trying to keep his tone casual.

Sombra grins. "Of course, Gabe, you can do my job!" she tells him, glee in her tone. "Right, _vaquero_?"

Jesse eyes him. "Sure," he says eventually, the undertone of aggression reduced slightly. He turns and carries on towards the surveillance room, and Gabriel follows.

 

 

Something clicks quietly and Amélie's eyes open. She lies still for a moment, listening to the silence, before she swings her legs onto the floor and stands. She's already in comfortable clothing, ready for whatever happens next. She can't remember the exact details of her kidnapping, although the general gist is clear in her mind. The fear she felt, like nothing she's ever experienced since, ripping through her body.

Amélie stands exactly still, static in her upright position, while she listens. There's no more noise, no footsteps or hushed commands. It must have been that irritating British girl making the sound.

If she's honest, the thought of Lena protecting her is annoying beyond belief. The Brit is disgustingly upbeat, _constantly_ , and she keeps staring at Amélie when she doesn't think the other woman is looking. Amélie tries to ignore it, but with her newfound emotion the feeling of disdain towards Lena is overwhelming. On top of that, the others - Lena, that ridiculous cowboy, Gabriel - are treating her as if she's some piece of fragile pottery, liable to break at any second. Amélie knows how to operate a sniper rifle just as well as Ana Amari, is just as agile as Lena, and as capable as any of them. She might not have known in the past, when she was still Amélie Lacroix, the ex-dancer wife, but things are different. Amélie isn't sure she still deserves the surname; she's so far removed from the woman who married Gérard. She can barely remember the ceremony. She wants - no, _needs_ the others to stop treating her as if she's the same as the past. She can defend herself.

 _What against, though_? she wonders. Joining Talon... would it be so bad? It was easier when she was Widowmaker. She didn't have responsibility, didn't have feelings, didn't have this _damn heartbeat_ shuddering through her every waking moment. If she went back it would be so much better -

Amélie frowns, as the thought freezes in its tracks. It seems... foreign, almost. _Why_ does she want to go back? She has another chance to start again. Amélie takes a breath as pain spikes through her head, but she pushes past it. Talon tortured her. They forced her to kill. Here, the others are trying to help her, no matter how irritating and childish they are. Amélie shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the familiar fogginess she feels creeping across her mind. It's like the sensation she used to get just before she needed to attend another check-up. She distinctly remembers being so much colder after those appointments, more sure of her allegiance to Talon.

There's another click then, louder, and Amélie stiffens. She hears a creak, just one, and then an almost imperceptibly faint whisper. Her heart thumps, and there's a sound like the sea in her ears.

_They're here._

Amélie tenses all over, fists clenching as she opens her door slowly. A group of red dots flick across the walls, swinging left and right to check the house is unoccupied. She hears the familiar creak of the staircase, loud to her ears no matter how silent the Talon agents try to be. She takes a breath, controlling her breathing. She peeks round the doorframe gradually, trying not to give herself away, and spots a trio of ghost-white helmets hurrying towards her. Her breath catches and she stumbles backwards, heartbeat thundering suddenly in her ears. For the first time in years she is feeling abject fear and it is _terrifying_.

Amélie hears the agents reach the top of the stairs, checking rooms one by one. Hers is the third from the stairs, and a sense of anticipation fills her. They're going to reach her, going to find her and she won't be able to stop them.

 _It will happen again_ , says a voice in her mind, but she shoves it away before she can fully react to it. It won't. It can't. Amélie steadies herself, taking a breath, and looks up.

The door swings open silently, and a figure in pure black stands before her save for the white mask, with two glowing red eyes. He takes a stride towards her and she backs away, hitting the bedside table. Amélie clenches her fingers around the wood, hardening her resolve. The Talon agent steps closer again and reaches for her, lowering his gun. Amélie goes to disable him, drop him to the floor, before she remembers she needs to act the part. She can't raise suspicion. She lets herself go limp, trying to paste an expression of fear on her face.

"Keep quiet," the agent hisses, and she does as they twist her hands behind her back and roughly clip cuffs around her wrists. "Target acquired," they whisper, though not to her, and Amélie faintly hears acknowledgment from their comm.

The house is deadly quiet as the agent pulls her after them, accompanied by a couple more white-masked soldiers. Amélie takes a breath in and out, tries to control her breathing. She has to stay calm. The Talon soldier drags her outside, and there's still no sign of Lena as they push her roughly into a waiting truck. It looks military, perhaps armoured. Amélie counts at least seven soldiers waiting beside it, keeping watch for anyone coming towards the estate. As her captor shoves her up the stairs at the back of the truck, making her stumble, she slams against the far wall and her shoulder cries out in protest. The agent makes a sharp signal to the men waiting outside and Amélie catches a glimpse of them turning towards the truck before the Talon agent with her pulls the doors closed. There's a sound of locking from outside, and Amélie realises she's being secured for transport with the guard right next to her. She takes in a breath, trying to steady herself. There's another slam; the agents must have got in the truck, in the partition between her section and the drivers' seats. The truck shakes slightly and then they're moving, the vehicle rumbling beneath Amélie. Her fists tighten as the agent eyes her, mask expressionless.

"Try anything and these are going straight back on," he tells her in a low voice. The agent leans forward with something in his hands, and Amélie stiffens as he reaches behind her back. There's a click and she feels the cuffs loosen around her wrists before the agent pulls them away, sitting back down. He feels sorry for her, Amélie realises. This is his way of apologising for what's about to happen to her.

Or, rather, what _would_ be about to happen. She will not let it happen again this time. Amélie waits, trying not to fidget as the truck rumbles away from her home, towards Talon. Something will occur soon. Amélie takes a breath, and another, and waits as the truck drives further and further away. Nothing happens, and Amélie's heart rises into her throat. _Nothing happens_. Lena doesn't appear, damn her, doesn't suddenly attack the truck and help Amélie. She pushes the fear down - _stay calm_ , she thinks. If it all goes wrong, Gabriel will save her. Gabriel will come to get her.

He's the only person who knows both Widowmaker and Amélie Lacroix, the only person who's gone through anything like what she has. Amélie feels like a cross between the two, confused and tangled between two different women, and Gabriel is the only one who knows both. He _understands_ her position, crossed as he is between Gabriel Reyes and Reaper, and she trusts him. The violent way he reacted to her wish to go back to Talon (which, now she thinks about it, doesn't feel like her own) tells her he'll do anything to change history, including preventing her from becoming Widowmaker. She can trust his motives.

But doubt rises in her, as the Talon agent across from her eyes her closely and shifts his gun in his lap. The implied message is starkly clear: if she makes trouble, they won't hesitate to knock her out. It's a wonder they haven't already, though she supposes they want their shiny new asset as uninjured as possible. Amélie swallows, eyeing the gun. It's a pulse rifle, a rather primitive design compared to Talon's future weaponry. She could grab it now, use it to disable the agent, but then she'd still have to deal with the drivers and the other guards, and... it's not possible. Not without help.

Her world shakes then and adrenaline floods through Amélie as she hears a familiar voice shouting something, and the truck grinds to a sudden halt. Both Amélie and the agent are flung sideways from the stop and Amélie runs with the distraction, throwing herself at the agent, making him curse as he fumbles to push her off him.

"Cheers, love!" Lena yells from outside the truck, and Amélie grits her teeth and smashes the butt of the pulse rifle right into the agent's face. He lets out a shout and she grabs the gun, shooting him instantly. The weapon kicks in her hands, so different to Widow's Kiss, but simultaneously comforting.

"Operation: Lacroix to HQ, do you read me?" a male voice screams, loud enough for Amélie to hear over the sound of Lena's twin pistols and the responding gunfire. "Operation compromised, one assailant, identity unknown-"

Amélie slams her foot against the lock on the door once, twice, and on the third hit the lock shatters and the door slams open, banging as it smashes into the truck. She steps out, eyes sharp, and raises the rifle. Lena is zipping around between the Talon soldiers, who are shouting and trying to shoot her in vain. Amélie's lip curls into a snarl and she fires, the rifle thudding in her hands as two agents fall. The other soldiers spin round to face her, and she hears a cascade of swears in various languages before she darts to the right to avoid the sudden hail of gunfire sent her way. Amélie shoots again and another soldier falls, letting out a scream.

 _So dramatic_ , she thinks disdainfully.

Lena shouts something to her, but Amélie's ears are filled with her rapid heartbeat and the sounds of the rifle. She grits her teeth, gunning down another before the rifle clicks and she tosses it to the ground in disgust. Amélie sees Lena flash blue and appear behind the last pair of agents, and the Brit peppers them with pulses before she blinks further away and they crumple to the ground.

The night falls deadly silent.

Lena blinks at Amélie, panting slightly, unspoken confusion in her eyes.

"You forget I was trained in many different types of weapon by Talon," Amélie says simply.

Lena's lips part slightly. "Yeah, I... uh, didn't really expect it, though. You looked like... um..." She trails off as she stares, and Amélie narrows her eyes.

"You think I am like Widowmaker, _oui_?" the Frenchwoman asks. "You are wrong. I am different."

Lena's expression changes slightly, though Amélie can't name it. "Yeah, I know. Just..." She lets out a slightly awkward laugh, rubbing the back of her neck as she repeats her earlier sentiment. "Wasn't expecting it, that's all."

Amélie rolls her eyes. "I still have all my skills. I am not some fragile flower needing protection. You do not need to treat me as such." She doesn't bother to conceal the annoyance running through her tone, and the Brit looks almost _hurt_ by her words.

"I guess I'll contact Gabriel then. Tell him we're coming back and get him to send a transport..." Lena says, her words fading out to Amélie's ears as something odd occurs to the Frenchwoman. She turns back towards the truck, zoning out of the conversation, and climbs the stairs towards the partition she was in.

The agent lies motionless, sprawled across one side of benches, glazed eyes wide open in death. Amélie can't quite explain it, but there's a feeling that tells her to return his kindness (and his ultimate downfall) of taking off her restraints. She can at least give him respect in death. Amélie reaches for him, righting him into a more dignified position. She looks at him, faceless - just another of Talon's agents - and reaches for the helmet, taking it off gently. Underneath is a middle-aged face, weathered but not old, with startlingly light grey eyes. His face is cold as she swipes her fingers across his eyelids, closing them, and she sets the helmet beside him. A piece of paper flutters to the ground then and Amélie frowns, looking down. She picks it up, turning it over.

It's a photograph. In the centre is a man, grinning widely and half-obscured by people. There's a pretty blonde beside him, looking at the camera as several small children surround them. They all have matching, all-American, toothy smiles on their faces. It's clear from the resemblance the children must be the couple's own. Amélie looks up from the photo, from the man in the centre with sunlit skin and a smile to the man slumped in front of her. His skin is pale in the night, and his expression is blank, but there's no denying they're the same person.

Something painful sweeps across her, and her vision blurs slightly. Amélie swipes at her eyes angrily, confusion adding to the sudden tumult of emotions swirling in her. He would have been complicit in her torture, she tells herself. He was a bad person. But she stares at the image again. He had a _family_ , people that loved him. Talon took that away from her, but she's taken it away from him. She's left three children without a father. Amélie blinks, trying to suppress the tears rising involuntarily in her eyes.

"Amélie?" comes a voice, and the Frenchwoman turns to see Lena standing there with worry on her face. Her eyes flick down to the photo Amélie is holding and to the dead man, and her expression softens. "Oh, Am," is all she says.

"He had a family," Amélie tells her faintly. "I have destroyed it. _Moi. Répugnant_ -"

"It's okay, Am," Lena reassures, stopping her. Amélie watches the Brit closely as she climbs into the truck, taking a step forward. "I'm so sorry but it happens, it's what they get for joining up with Talon. You don't have to feel guilty. He was trying to hurt you," Lena tells her, face full of concern.

Amélie says nothing, and Lena comes a little nearer. They're so close now, and Amélie can't help but stare into Lena's eyes. The shorter woman leans in, so slowly, and Amélie's heartbeat thumps in her ears before she shakes herself, pushing past Lena out of the truck and into the frigid night air.

"Do not ever call me Am again," she snarls, clenching her fists and looking away from the truck. "Just _sortez-moi de là."_

 _Do not get too close_ , sot, she chides herself.

 

 

"Gabriel," Gérard yells, fury in his voice, "tell me what is going on _right now_. Is she safe?"

"Yes, she's fucking safe, alright?" Gabriel shouts back. "You heard Oxton! They're fine, they're coming back."

It's been roughly two minutes since Gabriel received an emergency comm from Lena Oxton, the new recruit he assigned to Amélie, and Gérard has spent the entire time terrified for his wife. He didn't really take the threat seriously; after all, he knows Talon, and they wouldn't have allowed Gabriel to pick up their transmission somehow if it weren't some kind of ruse. But it turns out it's real, and Gérard is only hearing about it _now_ when his wife has _already_ been attacked -

Jack's deep voice interrupts his spiral. "Gabriel, we need to follow up on where this tip came from. If it was right once -"

"How did you even know it was happening tonight?" Gérard demands, cutting Jack off. Gabriel didn't seem at all surprised when he got the request for transport from Lena, but he shouldn't have been able to know. Gérard's instincts are telling him something is very wrong, and he hasn't survived this long in Blackwatch without listening to his gut.

Ana is uncharacteristically silent in the corner as Gérard yells, watching all three of them with dark eyes. Jesse is leant up against the wall beside her, equally quiet, ridiculous hat shading his face. Gérard doesn't like it. It feels suspicious; it feels like backup of some sort.

"For fuck's sake," Gabriel growls. "That's not important, what's important is that we get her back here!"

"I will stay with her at our home. I can protect her -"

"You can't, you French fuck, you know that's bullshit -"

" _Excusez-moi_? Why are you so insistent on - oh," Gérard says, as lightning strikes through his mind. He's always been a quick man, but this time the cogs click into place in record time. It all makes _sense_./p >

Jack frowns. "Gérard?" he asks, as the Frenchman glares with stormy eyes at Gabriel.

"The fuck's going on now?" the commander mutters, gripping his forehead in one hand. "Look, the trip's thirty minutes and they'll be back in an hour, so let's just leave this until -"

"How long have you been together?" Gérard asks, voice controlled. He can't let the anger leak through his voice or he'll lose it completely. Jesse looks up, surprise flashing across his face.

"What?" Gabriel says, sounding exasperated.

"You heard me," Gérard tells him tightly. "You have never interacted that closely before, and suddenly Amélie is asking to come and speak to you in private and you are flying her over to be in your base, and I see her hiding from me outside your office. I thought you were more subtle than this, Reyes -"

"We're back to fucking Reyes are we, now?" Gabriel interrupts, anger flooding through his tone. "Very mature."

Jack is staring at Gabriel, though, and Gérard can almost see the gears click into his mind. "Gabe, is this... true?"

Gabriel stares at him, a cross between shock and frustration on his face. "No, of course it's fucking not!" he yells, and Jack flushes.

"You can't deny it fits, Gabriel, you've been so distant and -"

Jesse speaks up then, a warning in his tone as he stares at Gabriel. whose gaze is getting darker by the second. "A'ight, everyone just calm down -"

"Call off your guard dog, Reyes," Gérard hisses, the anger boiling over in his veins as something in Gabriel's eyes sparks and he lunges for Gérard, and suddenly the room explodes in yelling and Ana is shouting for everyone to stop as Jack struggles to keep Gabriel from _going_ for Gérard and Jesse restrains the Frenchman who's hurling abuse across the room.

Gérard's vision is almost white with anger and panic and worry for Amélie, and the haze settling over his senses is like fog. He can't see who's who in the room anymore, just keeps yelling in French. If that bastard thinks he can take Amélie away, screw Jack over like that, then he can think again because -

Something screeches and Gérard freezes as Athena's voice rings through the room. "Attention, Strike-Commander Morrison, Commander Reyes, Captain Amari, Captain Lacroix, Agent McCree. Incoming news report from London of high interest." The speaker pauses for a second, and then the sound of guns fills the room.

"I'm here in King's Row, London, where the Omnic group known as Null Sector has claimed the city for itself. Currently the Omnics are pushing forward, and all humans in the city are advised to evacuate. Estimates currently place the centre of this aptly-nicknamed "Uprising" in Turing Green, and the crisis area is currently spread six miles from there. The Prime Minister of England has, in a historic moment, explicitly denied Overwatch to operate in London in this crisis." The newsreader's voice is bland and crisp as she continues, but the effect the words have on Gabriel and Jesse is huge.

"Oh, _shit_ ," Gabriel breathes, and panic flashes across Jesse's face.

" _Madre de Dios_ , I gotta go, I ain't in London, _mierda_ -" Jesse curses, and releases Gérard before he starts walking out. Gabriel grabs him though, seizes his arm with force, and Jesse turns, outraged. "The fuck? Lemme go!" he says indignantly.

Gabriel's eyes are dark. "You're not going. I'm not letting you lose it again," he adds, and confusion flashes through Gérard as both men's gazes flick to the arm that Gabriel is gripping.

Jesse tries to shake him off to no avail, and hisses, "We need someone on the ground, Gabe, to finish off the OR units. You know we do -"

"I'll fucking do it, then," Gabriel snarls, anger etched in his tone. "But you're not going, understand?"

Jesse glares at the commander and Gérard's gut yells at him to find out what's happening. But to do that he needs to be able to interrogate Gabriel in some way, and that means he needs the fucker alive -

"I'm going," Gérard interrupts, tone icy. "But you had better have an explanation ready by the time I get back, Gabriel, or so help me God -"

Gabriel glares at the Frenchman, gaze swirling with anger. Why the hell is he so _angry_ at the moment? "Yeah, you'll get your fucking exposé. You need to get to London ASAP."

Jack stares at Gabriel, seemingly at a loss. "Gabriel, Athena just said we don't have permission -"

"I don't give a fuck," Gabriel hisses, and Jack nearly physically flinches backwards. "We need someone from Blackwatch on the ground and we need an Overwatch strike team - _shit_ , though, we don't have fucking Tracer here -"

"Gabriel, Athena _just_ said we're denied all jurisdiction in London -" Jack shouts.

Gabriel waves his hands, a habit Gérard knows means he's truly furious. " _I don't care_! We have to win Uprising to keep it the _same_ ," he rambles, and now Gérard is even more lost. Gabriel sounds like a madman, raving about events that haven't even happened yet. Gérard spots Ana take a step forward from the corner of his eye.

Ana lays a hand on Jack's shoulder then, and says calmly, "Trust him, Jack. We need a strike team." She glances at Gabriel, who seems to calm slightly. Gérard's eyes narrow.

Jack pauses for what feels like an eternity before he exhales. "Fine. You had better be right, though, Gabriel -"

"I am right," Gabriel mutters. "You need to take Reinhardt, and Torbjörn and... Angela," he adds, seeming to repress some kind of emotion at the latter name. Gérard's gut is full-on shouting at him that something is very off, now.

"We need at least a four-man team," Jack says, authority in his voice. "Ana, can you -"

"No," the sniper says sharply, and Jack's gaze snaps to her with confusion. "I'm sorry, Jack, but I need to stay here."

"Fine," Jack mutters, clenching his fists. "Then the only other candidate I trust to keep this covert is me. And you had better give me the same explanation as Gérard when we get back, understood, Gabriel?"

Gabriel glares at the Strike-Commander. "Fine," he utters reluctantly, and Jack makes a motion at Gérard.

"Come on," he says. "We need to get there quickly if we're going to have a shot at containing this."

He starts walking out without a backwards glance and Gérard follows, sparing one last glare for the hulk of a man left fuming in the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gabe honey pls calm down
> 
> in other news the plot is really moving fast now so strap in kids! i'll try and get the next chapter out soon.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: a couple of hints at panic attacks throughout the chapter

Jack and Gérard sweep out of the room and Jesse is left stunned, staring after them as Gabriel seethes. _Where the fuck did that come from?_ he thinks. Gérard's smart, but the leap to an affair or something is way too far. There's something else going on with him; must be.

"Jesse," Gabriel says, audibly trying to tamp down his anger, "I need you to monitor Gérard, like I did with you, remember? Tell him where to go, where to -"

"I got it," Jesse tells him, cutting him off. Gabriel takes a breath.

"Ana, can you help me with the strike team?" he asks, turning to the silvery-haired sniper.

She nods, arms folded. Her face is as stiff and straight as her posture. "Alright, Gabriel. Though I don't know how much help I can be -"

"You remember that... _fuck_ , what was it, that manila folder from one of your agents? You got it yesterday, from... dammit, I can't remember..."

"McEwan?" Ana offers, and Gabriel snaps his fingers.

" _Sí_ , yes, yeah, it'll make sense now. Bring it to the sit room and we can help guide them, even though Jack's not here this time. It'll be fine. Okay," he says mindlessly, clenching his fists and taking a breath.

Jesse can see through Gabriel's fast talking that he's shaken from Gérard's accusation. Gabriel's loyal; he wouldn't ever take someone else's partner, and even if Amélie was completely single he would never cheat on Jack. Jesse can see the old Gabriel shining through the crack Gérard created in his anger; both in his reaction, and the way he stopped Jesse from leaving. The cowboy's never seen anything like that from Reaper, never seen anything even approaching compassion, but here Gabriel is: still trying to protect Jesse in his own way.

"Gabe," Jesse says suddenly, and the commander's gaze flicks to him. "We got this. It's gonna be fine."

Gabriel is silent for a long pause. "Alright," he says eventually, and Jesse knows it's his code for _thanks_.

The cowboy tips his hat then, once to Gabriel and once to Ana, who gives him a nod. "Good luck, _abn_."

Jesse smiles at the nickname - god _damn_ , he misses her in the future - despite the seriousness of the situation as he leaves, striding towards the Blackwatch situation room. He starts running through the Uprising in his past in his mind, trying to sort out the order of events and recall what Gabriel told him. The first part was by himself, he remembers, before Gabriel got on secure comms and directed him towards the last pocket of resistance and the final OR-14 -

_The omnic looms above him and Jesse freezes, blocking out the sun above him as there's a shearing sound and it produces a red-hot blade, lunging towards Jesse before he can react and he screams -_

"No," Jesse says forcefully, shoving the memory away and bracing himself against the wall with his newly-flesh hand. "Not fuckin' now."

The image looms at the corner of his mind and he tries to ignore it. Now is not the time to get distracted, and if Jesse can focus long enough he can stop ever losing his arm in the first place. He needs to concentrate, he needs to -

"So has everyone in Blackwatch got anger issues, or what?" comes a voice, and Jesse jerks away as a figure materialises next to him.

"The fuck?" he yelps, stopping in his tracks. His brain finally processes the image before him and he recognises Sombra, trademark smirk plastered on her face. "Where the hell did you come from?"

She picks at her nails. "I have camo technology, _vaquero_. I was cloaked in there the whole time!" Her tone is proud.

Jesse stares at her. "You ever heard of boundaries?"

Sombra shrugs. "Eh," she says non-committally. "So, you want an _amiga_ for this op or what?"

"Fine." Jesse rolls his eyes. "Follow me."

"Where are we headed?" she asks, falling into step as Jesse starts walking again.

"Sit room," he says. "I was the one doin' this in the past, so I need to help Gérard through it. Do exactly what I did -"

"Except losing your arm, right?" she asks drily, and Jesse frowns questioningly at her. "It's not hard to put the pieces together," she defends, holding a hand up.

Jesse rolls his eyes. "Well, yeah, obviously I'm tryin' to avoid him gettin' hurt. Left," he adds, turning into a high-ceilinged room with black and red detailing on the walls.

The Blackwatch logo covers the floor, and there's an array of black screens suspended above the transparent half-moon table in the centre. Jesse walks straight in while Sombra hangs back and takes their surroundings in. The cowboy ignores her, instead heading directly for the console and swiping on the desk. It lights up with an icy-blue glow and Jesse stares at it for a few seconds before the brightness fades to reveal a scattering of icons across the surface. They're inherently familiar to Jesse, having watched Gabriel run ops so many times, and he enters the comms program immediately, selecting Gérard's channel and his from those available.

 _Don't touch anythin',_ he mouths to Sombra, and she rolls her eyes.

"Fiiine," she acquiesces quietly, drawing out the vowel as she drops into the seat beside his.

"Gérard, you copy?" Jesse asks as he slots the terminal's comm into his ear.

A voice crackles to life. "Copy."

"Alright," Jesse acknowledges, navigating to the plans and maps of King's Row. With practised strokes, he opens up the tracking menu and pins the locations of both the Overwatch dropship and Gérard's comm to the screen. "You're 'bout five minutes out, I'd say, so you might wanna get all your shit together."

Gérard takes a while to respond, and Jesse assumes he's collating his gear. The Frenchman's weapons of choice are an old-style pistol combined with a sharp set of throwing knives, a combination that's always struck Jesse as odd; but hey, it's worked for him so far.

"What's first, then?" Sombra asks him, and Jesse mutes the comm.

"I actually can't tell right now. See, I was here 'bout thirty minutes ago last time, so we're late. Gonna have to try and set things back on track so he can bring down the last couple omnics like me," Jesse tells her.

The Latina woman nods. " _Guay_ ," she remarks, and seems to settle back into her seat.

There's a click from Jesse's ear and he reactivates his comm as Gérard says, "We've landed. Show me where to go. And... Jesse, I apologise for earlier -"

Jesse says shortly, "Don't matter. Everyone's fuckin' pissed right now, and I don't think anyone should take anythin' as seriously as y'all are."

Gérard sighs, but moves on at the finality in the cowboy's tone. "What's the objective?"

"Cripple Null Sector from behind so the Overwatch team can finish the job," Jesse tells him. "So first you wanna release the flies and then get behind them through Turing Way, to your left twice."

"Release the _flies_?" Sombra asks faintly, looking somewhere between disgusted and confused. Jesse shoots her a grin.

"Ah, of course," Gérard says, sounding half-amused as he takes out a small case from his suit pocket. It's matt-black and uniform, almost like a cigarette holder, but when he clicks it open and touches something inside there's a whirr. Sombra and Jesse wait as, as Jesse knows, several tiny insectlike devices thrum into life and whizz into the air.

Six segments of screen flare into life before them, each displaying a fishbowl-type view of Gérard and his surroundings.

" _¿Qué chingados?_ " Sombra yelps.

"FlyCams, flies for short," Jesse explains to the hacker, muting his microphone. "Once they're on they're gone; can't get them back, but they self-destruct once they're outta juice. So enemies can't use them."

"Hmm," Sombra hums, narrowing her eyes slightly. "I haven't come across these before."

"Nah, we kept them secret." Jesse sounds pleased. "Must have done a good job if you don't know about them, huh?"

Sombra makes a _tch_ sound before settling back slightly, sharp eyes roving over the fly feeds. Gérard looks into the fourth fly, and his face fills the screen.

"Do you have visual?" he asks, and Jesse clears his throat.

"Yup, we got all six. You better get goin'," he advises, knowing Gérard's already behind timewise.

Gérard rolls his eyes and the fly hovers higher, scouting the surrounding area with crystal-clear scope. " _Oui_ , I know. Tell me what's coming up."

Jesse brings up a holographic panel deftly, selecting one fly and sending it ahead a little. He's reasonably sure he remembers the uprising well, but he's not risking a mistake with Gérard. He'll do it the old-fashioned way. "Three Nulltroopers at the junction," he warns.

Sombra watches from beside him as Gérard sneaks up on the trio of omnics, stealthy and silent: the Frenchman's speciality. He tosses a pair of serrated throwing knives into the first two and plunges a dagger into the third enemy, driving it down to the ground in a shower of sparks. The other two bots collapse and Gérard pulls the knives out of their heads without hesitation.

"Right," Jesse instructs.

It takes them roughly twenty minutes to work through the heart of the Null Sector resistance without alerting the entire enemy force. Jesse remembers how dry his mouth was when he did this, knowing if he fucked up the chances of getting out were terrifyingly slim; Gérard, on the other hand, appears cool and collected as he assassinates Nulltroopers smoothly. Jesse checks the time, realising the Frenchman managed to catch up reasonably well. Gérard is in roughly the same spot at the same time as Jesse was in the past, which bodes well.

"Slicer," the cowboy warns, and the assassin turns to see the small biped running across his vision. It keels over when Gérard throws a knife straight into its side, and lets out a small noise when it crashes into the ground. Sombra winces slightly.

 _You alright?_ Jesse mouths, not wanting to mute his comm again if he can help it.

The hacker grimaces. "He's vicloud," she confides quietly.

"Jesse, how much further?" Gérard whispers.

"Not far. See the compound up ahead? Entrance to Turing?"

" _Oui_."

"We need to know what's in there for the strike team. Can you scout it?" Jesse asks, and Gérard's mouth curls into a smirk.

"Of course I can," he assures, and quickly crosses the street to slip in the side entrance Jesse directs him to.

While Gérard moves into position, Jesse calls up the comms panel and opens the line to Gabriel in the Overwatch situations room. "Gabe, you there?" he asks.

"I'm here," Gabriel answers, sounding annoyed. "What have you got?"

"Gérard's about to reach the centre of Turing. How far is the strike team?"

"About two minutes," Gabriel grumbles. "Goddamnit, they're slow, I mean... Torbjörn took five minutes to even get the payload online."

Jesse chuckles despite the seriousness of the situation. "Alright, well, I'm relaying his comm to you. Get ready to tell the team."

"Good."

The cowboy does so, sharing Jesse and Gérard's link with Gabriel. After a second of consideration, he forcibly mutes the Blackwatch commander within the channel, not wanting to antagonise or distract Gérard. By now, the Frenchman is in position above the Null Sector forces, sitting silently on the overhead walkway. Jesse wonders how the fuck he ever managed to pull this off undetected when he was doing it.

"I can see multiple Bastion units. Tank and sentry. Too many Nulltroopers," Gérard murmurs, deadly quiet. "One, two... four OR-14s by my count. _Merde_."

Jesse nods. _Same as before_ , he thinks, and reassurance floods him. They can do it. "Alright, great. Get out if you've seen it all."

Gérard whispers, "Copy."

Jesse cuts him off and unmutes Gabriel. "You get that, Gabe?"

"I got it. Same as before. Tell him to get out as fast as he can to clear the payload blast radius." Gabriel's tone is clipped, businesslike, and Jesse realises it must be incredibly hard for him to deal with Jack. No matter which one's in the right or wrong, Jesse knows that something bad went down between them, and only Gabriel is aware. It's got to be hard for him.

"Understood. Out," Jesse answers, leaving the channel and returning to Gérard's line. "How you doin'?"

"Fine," Gérard informs him quietly. "What's next?"

"Get as far from Turing as you can, towards the plaza. Northwest," Jesse says. "The Overwatch payload is gonna blow at some point, so you need to get out. The strike team have got Nandah and the other hostages covered, so you just need to clear up outside."

"Got it."

Jesse takes control of one of the flies quickly, zooming ahead of the Frenchman to reach the central plaza of King's Row first. As he remembers, there's one OR-14 accompanied by several Nulltroopers. Jesse swallows at the sight of it. The pocket of hostiles is clearing out the area around Turing Way and the Underworld, advancing on civilians and sympathising omnics alike. Jesse's brow furrows at the sight of a redheaded girl cowering among the other civilians, under the shadow of the OR unit. He recognises her as... shit, is that _Emily_? He's met Lena's girlfriend before, and he knows she lives in King's Row, but _Lena_ is meant to rescue her from Null Sector. Not Gérard Lacroix. Jesse frowns.

The other flies catch up at the same time as Gérard does, and the Nulltroopers turn to face him as he tosses several knives at once that sink into their heads and send them crumpling. The remaining couple turn and Gérard takes them down just as efficiently, gripping his last couple of knives as the OR-14 turns from the civilian group to face Gérard.

Jesse says urgently, "Get them to run, Gérard -"

"Go!" the Frenchman is already shouting as he ducks the OR-14's sudden fire, deafening Jesse slightly. There's a scream and the civilians scatter, sprinting away as the omnic focuses on Gérard. Jesse glimpses Emily's vivid hair among the escapees, and, although her rescue is jarringly wrong this time, relief fills him that she's safe.

Gérard swears in a burst of furious French over the comm as he weaves around the omnic and plunges a throwing knife into the back of it. The bot screeches and turns to punch him directly, but Gérard is already dodging and striking again. Jesse stares as it sparks and bucks, and the Frenchman snarls across the comms as he tosses one final knife into the OR-14's weak spot. The machine crashes to the ground and the assassin wheezes, gripping his knees in the suddenly quiet plaza.

"There's one more," Jesse says urgently, instincts screaming, gripping the table. "Lacroix, turn around, goddamnit!" He remembers one more OR-14, just one, the one that stole his arm -

Gérard's tone is serious over the comms. "I don't see any enemies. Are you sure, Jesse?"

Jesse bites his lip, racking his memories. Beside him, Sombra is frowning. "So sure. Damnit, I must be wrong, but I coulda sworn -" There's a yell and the comm in Jesse's ear whines, falling flat with a screech. The cowboy shoots to his feet, face draining of colour. "Lacroix. Gérard, talk to me, what's happening?"

One of the flies flickers and drops, out of power, and Jesse bares his teeth as he stares at the other views. Gérard's face is half-bloodied, the comm in his ear visibly mangled from the punch. The final OR-14 unit looms above him, having attacked from behind, and the Frenchman grips a long dagger - _dirk_ , Jesse remembers - with determination on his face. The OR makes a motion with its arm and a blade shoots out, red-hot and burning. Jesse's heart thumps, and he feels his body tensing of its own accord.

_The blade swings and Jesse's scream tears out of him as agony blazes up his left side and he scrambles away, screaming despite -_

" _Mierda_ ," Sombra breathes, and at some point she's got to her feet as well. "Jesse, stay here," she tells him, biting her lip as she switches her gaze from him to the screens and back.

Her words help, though they don't fully calm him, and Jesse finds himself gripping the table in white-knuckled fear. "Come on, Gérard, fuckin'..."

They watch, wordless, as Gérard snarls and darts away to the side of the omnic to get to its vulnerable back. The OR follows him with the blade, swiping, and he ducks and dodges to get out of the way. His face is red from exertion, though, and Jesse can see the sweat and blood on his face and the slight unfocus in his eyes. Gérard strikes with the dirk, clanging off the OR's armour, and the omnic sends out a gravity pulse blindly. The Frenchman is dragged sideways and his face twists as the OR fires, a stream of pulse bullets that he tries to dodge. He's caught in the shoulder, though, and as he rolls away from the rest of the volley Jesse can see the pain on his face clear as day.

"Fuck," he breathes, Sombra frozen beside him. "Fuck, come on."

Gérard raises the dirk again and ducks the blade, but he skids slightly on the ground and stumbles. The OR-14 punches instantly, capitalising and sending the dagger skittering across the cobblestones. Fear flashes across Gérard's face and he scrambles backwards, fumbling at his belt. He grabs a small device Jesse knows from sight, an emergency EMP, and Gérard grabs and twists and activates it. There's a tiny flicker of light before the device dies, and both Jesse and Gérard's faces contort in shock and horror. Sombra takes a sharp breath.

"It's broken," Jesse breathes. "Goddamnit, it's been fuckin' broken! Come on, you bastard, fuckin' -"

Gérard tries to stumble up, reaching for his lost dirk, for any weapon within sight, and the OR rears back and plunges the blade straight down. Gérard spasms and Sombra lets out a scream as Jesse shouts, and Gérard stops moving.

" _No_!" Jesse yells, stumbling back, vision narrowing. "Fuck, Lacroix, shit, _mierda_ -"

Sombra is frozen in front of the monitor, staring with wide eyes. " _Madre de Dios_." A red panel pops up and flashes, drawing attention to the suddenly-ceased heart rate and brain activity of one Gérard Lacroix.

Jesse stares, eyes wide and head light, heart thumping with the realisation that Gérard is _dead, Christ, fuck_ -

" _Shit_ ," he whispers, eyes fixed on the OR-14 as it retrieves the blade and carries on towards Turing. The strike team will have to deal with it, but right now that's the least of Jesse's worries because Gérard is _gone_ -

Suddenly, there's a noise from behind him, and Jesse twists to see a tall figure in the doorway. Amélie stands there, one hand braced against the side of the doorway, the other covering her mouth. Shock twists her features, and her eyes are wide and shining and full of horror.

Jesse's blood goes cold. "Shit, Amélie -"

"No," she says faintly, and takes a step back before she sprints out of Jesse's vision and he curses.

"Sombra," he yells, and she jerks, shock written on her face. "We need to make sure she's okay, _fuck_ -"

Sombra starts running and Jesse sprints after Amélie, sprinting through the base after her. Or, at least, where he thinks she's gone. He yells her name as he goes, trying to make her stop because they need her, she's one of them, and she's just seen her fucking husband die right in front of her _again_ -

"Stop."

Jesse jerks as a hand flies out and grabs him, and his gaze flicks to the man halting him. Genji is newly fully armoured, having just made the transition from red wires and fury to the more streamlined green and chrome, but that doesn't stop his visor from flashing in the way Jesse knows means he's pissed. His augmented strength means Jesse won't be able to get away easily, either, not if Genji doesn't want him to.

"Why is Gérard's wife running for her life through our base, Jesse?" the cyborg asks bluntly, and Jesse swears.

"Fuck, Genji, I can't -"

"What happened?"

Jesse stares down the corridor, trying to keep Amélie in his sight as she rounds the corner and disappears. "I can't fuckin' tell you now, Genji, now lemme the fuck go _right now_ , please -"

Genji's visor flashes angrily. "McCree. I'm sick of being in the dark all the time. Explain. Please," he adds, more quietly.

"Fuck - look, I'll tell you later, I swear to God, but fuckin' shit you better lemme go because I need to find her, fuck -" Jesse devolves into cursing incoherently, mixing English and Spanish as he realises exactly what he's just done.

_You fucked up big time, Jesse, you sent him to his death -_

"I will hold you to that." Genji pauses for a moment before releasing him, and Jesse tears off immediately, shouting Amélie's name as he runs as fast as he can. He needs to find her because goddamn if he's going to let her go back to Talon or whatever fucking plan she might have now that Gérard is _gone_.

He curses under his breath when the corridor he enters is empty, and he checks the opposite pathway with just as little luck. Amélie's vanished to god knows where, and Jesse can only hope it's within the base. If not, they have little chance of finding her. Jesse has no idea what her free mind thinks about Talon, but if she's got any positive view of them Gérard's death - re-death - could push her back to them.

The scene in King's Row flashes before him, Gérard's corpse changing to his own, and suddenly he's back in London with the OR-14's body falling, sparking, to crash down on top of him, and exhaustion overcomes him from the trauma of losing his arm and using his Deadeye -

Jesse presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, forcing himself to breathe as he leans against the wall.

" _Fuck_ ," he whispers.

 

  
It doesn't take long for Sombra to give up the search for Amélie. Jesse goes tearing off like a man possessed, but the hacker doesn't feel the same drive. She's seen dead bodies before, obviously; she's seen people killed in front of her and she's killed them herself, too. Something about Gérard Lacroix, though, the way he died, is so very wrong, and it's tilting Sombra's equilibrium.

Her mind snaps through the feed from the flies as she half-heartedly looks for Amélie, trying to find what's so unsettling about Gérard's encounter. She thinks it through frame-by-frame, and suddenly it clicks: the EMP. It's an invaluable tool that Sombra uses herself, albeit from her enhancements rather than an external device, but she's sure there's no reasonable explanation the tech should have failed like it did. Flashing and then dying; it's not a natural issue, she realises. Was it sabotaged?

"Sombra?" comes a voice, and the hacker's head snaps to see Lena standing in the middle of the corridor before her. "Rea - uh, Gabriel wants to get all of us together. The strike team's on their own for a bit, so..."

The Latina woman waves a hand. "Yeah, okay. I'm done looking for her anyway. _La araña_ won't let us find her unless she wants us to."

Lena frowns. "Who?"

"The spider. You know, Amelie? Remember her?" Sombra teases.

"Wait, what? Where's she gone?" Lena asks hurriedly. "She told me she was going to find you guys before Gabriel came when we landed and he started telling me about the meeting so I didn't follow her -"

" _Ay_ , calm down. She just..." Sombra stops then, realising the others don't know yet. And if Jesse's gone after Amélie that leaves her to tell them.

 _Thanks a lot,_ vaquero, she thinks.

"It's probably better to explain in the meeting," Sombra says, trying to inject lightness in her tone.

"So have you, uh... found Amélie?" the Brit asks cautiously.

Sombra raises an eyebrow. "Why are you so interested, _enamoradita_?"

Lena flushes slightly. "Just worried."

"Uh huh," the hacker says drily. "We haven't."

The Brit's expression seems to flatten. "Oh. Is she okay?"

Sombra sighs. "No."

Lena doesn't talk much after that, brows pulled together in a frown as she leads the hacker back to the Overwatch situation room. Sombra keeps an eye out for a long black ponytail or distraught ex-assassin, but the corridors are empty save for the scattered agents of both Blackwatch and Overwatch. It'd be easy to tell them apart, really, even if they weren't wearing different uniforms; Blackwatch agents give her assessing glances or outright nods at her clear Los Muertos outfit, while Overwatch soldiers either just glare or smile pleasantly.

 _Dipshits_.

Lena turns into a room that's similar but differently-coloured to the Blackwatch one, blue and white in prominence instead of black and red. Sombra sees Gabriel in the centre chair, sitting backwards with the back of the chair between his legs. He's got a pissed-off expression on his face, and Amari beside him just looks long-suffering. Winston's not there and, predictably, neither is Amélie, but Sombra's a little surprised at Jesse's absence. _Probably still looking_ , she reasons.

" _Hola_ , everyone," she greets, wiggling her fingers.

Gabriel looks up. "Where's the ingrate?" he asks, to which Sombra shrugs.

"Don't know. Looking for Amélie," she offers, knowing the tidbit of information will draw Gabriel's interest. She feels a spike of indignance that she has to give out all these facts and secrets so readily to keep the others' trust, but it's the price to pay. She faintly wants to return to being the impartial, all-powerful information broker of the future.

"Where is she?" the commander asks, directing the question at both her and Lena. "You were with her when I found you, Oxton." He grumbles something inaudible after the question, getting out his comm unit and presumably contacting Jesse.

Lena's expression is slightly strained. "She left and I lost track of her, but apparently she's gone now. And she knows where," she adds, pointing accusingly at Sombra.

The hacker rolls her eyes. "You're _literally_ pointing fingers now, huh?"

"Where _is_ she?" Gabriel repeats, looking frustrated.

Sombra takes a breath. "We don't know, but, _viejo_ , you have to stay calm if I tell you why," she warns, and Gabriel's eyes narrow.

"Has something happened?" Amari asks, businesslike in her tone. Sombra looks the sniper up and down; it's easy to believe she becomes such a pain in the ass in the future.

The hacker opens her mouth to respond when Gabriel and Amari's eyes flick to behind her, and she turns to see Jesse in the doorway. His usually tan complexion is pale, and his mouth is tight.

"Shit, Jesse, are you okay?" Lena asks anxiously, and the cowboy nods, though he looks strained.

"Yeah, I... yeah," he sighs, tugging at his hat.

Gabriel stands up, looking like he wants to go comfort Jesse but stopping himself. Sombra notices the tension running through him; old habits are hard to break, after all. "What happened with the mission?" he asks.

Jesse shuts his eyes. "One of the ORs got away. And... _fuck_ , Gabe, I really fucked up -"

Amari's eyes hold obvious concern for him. "Stay calm, _abn_ ," she reassures.

"Gérard is dead," Jesse says, spitting the words out like they're painful.

Shock bolts across Amari's face and Lena lets out an audible gasp. Gabriel's reaction is the worst, though: he just freezes. His gaze is fixed on Jesse, eyes dark.

"Have you checked his vitals?" he asks, voice unnervingly level considering the news. Sombra eyes him.

"Yeah," Jesse mumbles.

Gabriel's fists whiten with how hard he's clenching them. "Are you sure?"

The cowboy looks him straight in the eye. "He's gone, Gabe, I -"

Before he can finish the sentence, though, Gabriel's hands shake slightly and he grabs onto the chair behind him. " _Mierda_ ," he swears, gripping it like an anchor.

Lena is white-faced. "What do we do?" she asks, visibly shaken. "Did Amélie see?"

Jesse says, "She was watchin' when it happened. Could be anywhere."

"Well, then we gotta find -"

Gabriel laughs then, a bitter sound, and everyone turns to him. Lena goes silent. Amari's expression is drawn tight. "There's no point."

"What?"

"There's no point looking for her, or trying to change what happens, or any of this," Gabriel says darkly. "He died the first time and now he's dead again. Where there is death, there will always be death," he quotes, and Sombra recognises the line from an old movie because if that isn't _just_ like Gabriel Reyes, to be able to quote dramatic scenes while being totally serious.

Lena looks aghast. "You can't think like that," she protests, but Gabriel shakes his head.

"It's fate. We can't change it," he tells her, voice full of resignation yet anger. "We're fucking stupid to think we can."

A shocked pause fills the room as they contemplate Gabriel's words, and the future waiting for them. Sombra thinks for a second before she interrupts the silence.

"We just weren't careful enough," she says, and now the room's attention is focused on her. "His EMP failed in a way that's not natural. I'm willing to bet it was sabotaged."

Gabriel's eyes flare. "Who?"

Sombra glares at him. "I don't know, Gabe, maybe one of the _pinche_ terrorists you have under your roof?"

"You mean Blackwatch?" Jesse asks, expression shaded slightly by his hat. "We ain't all terrorists -"

"No," Sombra shoots back, "but a lot of you are. Half of us are with them in the future, remember, _vaquero_? I could probably list all of the _hijos de putas_ -"

"Do it," Gabriel interrupts. Sombra falters, shooting him a glance.

" _¿Qué?_ Why?"

"If we know who they are," Gabriel says lowly, "we can get rid of them. Wipe them out first."

"You can't do that, Gabe, Morrison'll notice. You know that," Jesse interjects, tone bitter.

"To hell with fucking Morrison!"

Amari looks horrified. "Gabriel -"

"They're bad people, Ana, they will destroy us if we leave them -"

"You cannot just massacre them! They are still -"

Lena watches the bickering with a pale expression, looking completely out of her depth. Sombra realises she's the only one in the room without any sort of covert training or experience, the only true goody two-shoes Overwatch agent. She knows for a fact Amari has participated in several different Blackwatch missions, but Lena's kept her track record disgustingly clean.

"They killed Gérard -"

"You don't know that, Gabriel, all you have is the word of a Talon agent and gang member. You can't trust her in the least -"

"Hey," Sombra protests, but both older soldiers ignore her.

Gabriel growls, "Ana, you don't know what they do."

"Tell me then, Gabriel, tell me what on Earth happens that's so bad!" Amari shoots back, glaring, and the room seems to still.

Sombra realises their little group of five hasn't told anyone external anything of substance yet, save for the fact that she and Gabriel are with Talon, and all of them have come from the future. Amari has no idea what's coming, and for once in her life Sombra hesitates to be the one to break the silence.

"They bring Overwatch down from the inside," Gabriel says finally, quietly, like the fire burning in him has been dampened. "They torture Amélie and brainwash her into killing Gérard, and then killing you. They kill all the uncorrupted Blackwatch agents they can, and when they don't finish the job they fucking blow this place up with me... with me and Jack still inside. Except you and Jack somehow keep going with minimal injury, while I fucking die and then I'm brought back to life as a fucking _monster_ , and they're the only option I have left. So if you're asking what _exactly_ they do, Ana," Gabriel hisses, eyes narrowed, "they're responsible for killing hundreds and tearing us apart. They're not worth the fucking oxygen they waste breathing."

Amari just stares at him, a confusion of both horror and pity swirling in her eyes. She opens her mouth but nothing comes out.

"Can you get a list?" Gabriel asks quietly, and Sombra nods.

" _Sí_ ," she says. "Just gimme a sec."

Sombra pulls up a holographic roster of the Blackwatch agents in active duty, highlighting and separating all the names she knows to be Talon.

_Michael Bourne. Jiang Mina. Héctor Ramirez. Ela Skortjen._

She sees Jesse deflate slightly as he watches her work, presumably relieved at the absence of certain names, although his shoulders are still tight.

"I got it," she says, after several seconds, closing the main roster down and showing the Talon names to Gabriel. His eyes narrow as he scans it, cursing faintly every so often.

"We need to clean Blackwatch up," he says. "This is how we do it."

Amari starts, "Gabriel -"

Gabriel shoots a glare at her, though there's no real hatred behind it. "Ana, you have to trust me on this one. I know what I'm doing."

Amari hesitates, just for a second. "I don't know this you, Gabriel. I can't trust you. You're working _with_ Talon in the future, for God's sake."

There's a pause where Gabriel just stares at her, wordless, and Sombra bites the inside of her cheek. Jesse takes a step forward.

"Can you trust me?" he asks simply, and Amari turns.

She gives him a long look, an expression Sombra can't easily identify in her eyes, before she replies. "I can," she answers, giving him a small smile.

"Gabe's right," Jesse tells her, and the smile fades. "All that happens. And... I know Sombra," he adds, and Sombra knows he's thinking back to that dusty bar in Dorado and the long, half-coded talk they had over drinks on Christmas Eve. "We can trust her."

Jesse gives her a look and Sombra nods, very slightly, at him. _Thank you_ , she tries to signal to him, and when his eyes warm slightly she knows he's got the message.

 

  
Gabriel schedules an emergency mission as soon as he can, off the official books as much as he can make it. He assigns several strike teams to it, containing every Talon agent Sombra's identified.

_Finally, she's good for something._

The official summary is that they've received a tip-off as to the location of a major Talon base. It gives Gabriel the excuse to assign many agents, and it also carries a high enough risk that if they don't make it home it's less suspicious.

Ana hasn't stopped him or his plan, which Gabriel is thankful for, though he supposes it's more from her trusting Jesse's word than his. He pushes the frustration at her lack of trust in him down; of course she's got reason to suspect him. He's literally said in front of her he's a future Talon agent and terrorist. Still, though, it doesn't stop the burning feeling in Gabriel's chest.

Lena goes off to look for Amélie properly in the base while Jesse and Sombra stick with Gabriel. Gabriel knows he should be going to comfort her, letting her see the most familiar face to her, but he can't bring himself to do it. He doesn't want to face the final proof that Gérard really is gone. He's already had to file all the paperwork, each line reminding him further that _you can't change anything_ , and right now Gabriel just wants to focus: focus on cleaning up and clearing out any trace of Talon he can reach.

While they're waiting for all the agents to get themselves ready, Gabriel makes a decision. He, Jesse and Sombra are in his office, and an idea comes to him like a flash.

"What if we got rid of anyone we couldn't trust?" he asks suddenly.

"What?" Jesse asks, frowning. "You mean in Blackwatch?"

"Yeah," Gabriel says, the plan growing in his mind. "Sombra, there's no way for you to know all the agents not on your list are innocent, right?"

Sombra shrugs. "I mean, yeah. There's always a possibility."

"So we get rid of all of them." Gabriel spreads his hands, palms face up.

"That's fuckin' insane. Who's gonna stop Talon then?" Jesse protests, brow furrowed, but Gabriel shakes his head.

"We don't need that many people if the ones we have know all the inner workings."

Sombra raises an eyebrow. "You mean -?"

"I mean we dissolve Blackwatch. We let them all go, kill the ones we know are hostile and discharge the ones we don't trust, and then the only ones left are you two, me, and we can recruit Amélie, and -"

Jesse eyes him stonily. "And Genji. You ain't gettin' rid of him. We can trust him."

Gabriel's brows lower. "Yeah, fine. And Genji. But that's... what, five people? Five people who can trust each other. That's a medium strike team. All we need to take down Talon for once and for all." He's aware how insane he sounds, wanting to collapse his own organisation, but Gabriel knows it's twisted. It's fundamentally warped, and the only way to fix it is burn it down and start again: before it _literally_ burns down.

When the Talon agents are finally ready, Gabriel sends them off in multiple dropships, each piloted manually by humans. He doesn't want any AIs reporting back on the mission. While the agents pile in, chatting like nothing's wrong, like they don't _murder_ him in the future, he gets Sombra to attach little EMP ports on and inside the ships. When activated, they should be able to disable the ships completely. Gabriel can tell Jesse is warring with himself over killing so many agents in this unfair a fight as the cowboy watches them laughing. _The kid's gone soft_ , he thinks, though there's no real malice behind it. He supposes it's better to soften and change with the world, rather than end up like Gabriel. God knows he doesn't ever want that to happen to Jesse.

"Gabe?" comes a voice, and Gabriel snaps out of his thoughts and turns to see Sombra standing in front of him. "I'm done. They're all rigged."

The commander nods. "Alright. Let's send them off, then."

They do so, all three of them watching with varied emotions as the doomed ships rise smoothly up. The convoy will travel to America in formation, flying right over the Atlantic. The journey will take roughly four hours; or, at least, it will if it's allowed to go to completion.

Gabriel does not intend the ships to make it to their destination.

He, Jesse and Sombra handle the rest of the paperwork, sorting electronic forms and filling out details of various Blackwatch agents. Gabriel doesn't want to kill the suspected innocent members of the organisation, but he can't trust them fully; the best solution is discharging them all honourably. There are, in total, around six Blackwatch members who are unaffiliated with Talon, and Gabriel cringes internally at the small number. It doesn't take long, therefore, to fill out the discharge papers for each agent. Jesse's expression darkens at a couple of the names, and Sombra just looks bored at the work, but it's Gabriel who covers the most agents. It takes them roughly an hour to finish, and once they're done Gabriel sends a message to all the remaining, non-Talon Blackwatch members.

_GABRIEL REYES: Attention all agents. From this moment Blackwatch has officially been shut down and your discharge papers are being processed. You have two hours to clear your possessions and leave the building before you will be treated as civilians in a restricted area. Keep in mind your non-disclosure agreements are still in full action._

_GABRIEL REYES: This is not a drill or a joke._

_CARLA SANGRE: What the fuck?_

_NOAH MONROE: what_

_SAANVI KOYA: ????_

Gabriel swipes at his comm to turn it off as soon as the replies start crashing in, ignoring the agents' outrage. He's specified it's real; they'll take him seriously, and they'll get out of the Watchpoint quick if they know what's good for them. Gabriel sends the papers through Overwatch's internal processing, knowing they'll get dealt with quickly, before turning to Jesse and Sombra.

"Avoid the other agents," he tells Jesse. "They're going to notice you're not moving to leave, so just stay out of the way. Sombra, you too, nobody needs to see a Los Muertos member walking around base."

Sombra rolls her eyes. "Fine. So what are we going to do now?"

Gabriel says firmly, "We follow the timeline. And once we're beyond what we know, we take down Talon for the last time."

"So what's next?" Jesse asks, expression half-shaded by his hat.

Gabriel pulls out the piece of paper from his pocket, scrawled on from their first meeting. A couple of the events are crossed off; Amélie's abduction, the Null Sector uprising. The next item on the list is tomorrow, labelled simply _ANA_. "Rescuing the Temple of Anubis scientists," he says, dragging the details of the event up from his mind. "Where we lost Ana."

Jesse nods. "What's the plan?"

"I'm going to set up the mission early. It's not Blackwatch, so you're good. Go do whatever," he adds, and Jesse nods.

"C'mon, _princesa_ ," he says to Sombra, turning his back on Gabriel. "I'm gonna beat you in the shootin' range."

"Hah, you wish," Sombra shoots back, grinning, and turns to follow the cowboy out.

They leave Gabriel alone in his office as he coordinates the mission to Egypt, placing skilled-yet-expendable Overwatch agents on the team. He still has limited privileges to command the main division of Overwatch, though he rarely uses them. This, though, is worth it. Gabriel sets the rescue a day early, making sure Ana is off the roster, adding in several details about the specific placement of Talon forces that helped derail the operation, hoping it'll be enough. He couldn't save Gérard, but he can save Ana. _And myself_ , a little voice says in the back of his mind.

Gabriel looks at the mission clock once he's done, rolling his neck. It reads 01:37:52, nearly halfway through the journey. Even with the potential variance in speed, the time's within the window Gabriel worked out for the convoy to be directly across the ocean. He grabs the remote sitting on the corner of his desk, a little device of Sombra's own with ludicrous range. It's thin and black, with a purple LED ring around the singular button. Gabriel hardens himself, and presses it.

Halfway across the Atlantic Ocean, four black-glossed ships stall and die before they fall to the sea like bricks, and sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew this ended up being far longer than i anticipated! i really hope you guys are enjoying; i'd love to hear your feedback so far!
> 
> things are heating up also... this is the point where i abandon the slow burn tag.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone!
> 
> first off, an apology for how long it’s taken me to get this chapter. real life got very stressful very suddenly, and unfortunately writing was the thing i couldn’t keep up, hence the massive delay. however, i’ve finally got a break and i’ve been able to write a ton for this fic. the end of the work is now officially written, so i’ll be able to update as a certainty!
> 
> thank you all so much for sticking with me, and i hope you really enjoy these last chapters! <3

It’s almost eleven o’clock when he finds out. Jack’s just landed, along with Angela, Torbjörn and Reinhardt, having successfully repelled the Null Sector forces and rescued Mayor Nandah among others. The exhaustion he feels is bone deep; he’s been fighting with nearly as much effort and urgency as the Crisis days.

 

“Get some rest, everyone. Good work,” Jack says to the others, slightly gruff-sounding. Torbjörn salutes, claw spinning, and Reinhardt nods and grins widely.

 

Angela smiles. “You too, Jack. Try and get some rest.”

 

Jack nods and turns, heading the opposite way as the others’ chatting fades. He still has a couple of outstanding pieces of paperwork to handle before he can turn in for the night; he wants to have as clean a slate as possible to deal with the resulting shitstorm from London when the UN hear of their unsanctioned operation.

 

He’s reached his office, keying himself in with a yawn before picking up a sheaf of forms and starting to look at them, before he’s suddenly interrupted.

 

“Strike-Commander Morrison,” Athena says, her tone urgent, making Jack jolt. “I have lost contact with all four Blackwatch ships currently deployed.”

 

Jack frowns. “Does Gabe know?”

 

“I have attempted to contact the Commander,” Athena answers. “He has not responded, and so as according to Protocol 37 I am required to inform you.”

 

Jack’s expression deepens. “Goddamnit, Gabe. What’s he doing?” he asks, already starting to pull on his coat. The damn thing is an eyesore and too heavy, but it sends a good signal of _get the fuck out of my way_ to all the other occupants of the Watchpoint.

 

“Commander Reyes is in his office, I believe. I have not seen him leave. However, my cameras within his office have been obstructed. If I am correct, he is also currently attempting to cover my microphone system.”

 

“Fuck’s sake,” Jack mutters. Gabriel needs to get his shit together, and soon.

 

“Strike-Commander,” Athena says suddenly. Jack looks up. “I... do not think it is my place to inform you, but I doubt Commander Reyes intends to.” The AI almost sounds unsure, an emotion Jack has never heard from her, and he feels himself tense.

 

“What is it?”

 

“I believe Agent Lacroix may be dead.”

 

“ _What_?”

 

“Agent McCree and a civilian whom I cannot identify were monitoring Agent Lacroix’s operation in London. I believe a Null Sector unit took all three by surprise.”

 

Jack blanches. “Oh my _God_.”

 

“In addition, I detected an unidentifiable signal coming from Commander Reyes’ office approximately twenty minutes ago. I lost contact with the Blackwatch ships above the Atlantic Ocean shortly after.”

 

Jack freezes then, truly _freezes_ , something ice-cold spiking through his veins. “Is he the only one in there?”

 

“I believe so,” Athena answers. “Agent McCree and the unidentified civilian left the room approximately half an hour ago.”

 

Gérard is gone. The Blackwatch ships are gone; Jack doesn’t even know what they were sent out for, Gabriel invoking his _need-to-know_ policy, but he’s got a dead second-in-command, four ships full of agents Jack will have to declare dead, and a civilian running around. Either someone is using Gabriel, forcing him to be hostile and secretive and _dangerous_ , or...

 

“No,” Jack says forcefully, aloud.

 

He refuses to entertain that train of thought. Gabriel wouldn’t do this himself. Jack can trust him.

 

Can’t he?

 

“Athena.”

 

“Yes, Strike-Commander?”

 

“Tell me immediately if he leaves,” Jack says. “Don’t let him know I’m coming.”

 

“Understood, Strike-Commander.” She pauses. “Good luck.”

 

Jack sweeps out of his office, mind filled with theories. He’s known Gabriel for years and years, and he should be able to trust him. He’s been so distant recently, though, and overwhelmingly _angry_. He’s known specifications of Talon operations that he really shouldn’t. And his reaction to Athena’s announcement of Null Sector... he was so aggressive in stopping Jesse going to London, so unlike himself. It was almost like he knew it would be dangerous.

 

Jack stops. “Christ,” he murmurs.

 

Gabriel _knew_ it was dangerous, and he didn’t say a word. Gérard is dead, right after Gabriel was angry with him. The Blackwatch agents are gone, sent off on a mission of Gabriel’s own making. Jack’s heart pounds as he links the hints together, spelling out a conclusion that’s screaming at him that Gabriel can no longer be trusted.

 

Jack storms towards Gabriel’s office, tensing as he draws closer. He needs to keep his head, to keep calm. He has no idea how this situation will play out. He slaps his keycard against the wall and Gabriel’s door slides open smoothly.

 

The commander of Blackwatch is currently standing on one leg on top of his desk, gripping a piece of duct tape in his hands as he stretches upwards. The tape hovers over a small device on the ceiling that Jack knows is Athena’s auditory monitor, and Gabriel swears as he tries in vain to get close enough to actually cover it up.

 

“Fucking hell,” he growls, straining to get higher. “McCree, if that’s you I told you I don’t need you for Anubis -“

 

“It’s not McCree,” Jack says harshly, and Gabriel nearly flinches. He jumps off the desk immediately, eyeing the Strike Commander.

 

“What is it?” he asks, voice faux-casual.

 

Jack sets his jaw. “You promised Gérard and I an explanation, Gabriel. Now he’s dead. You need to tell me what the hell is going on, _right now_.”

 

Something unidentifiable flashes in Gabriel’s gaze, and he hesitates. It’s all Jack needs.

 

“Gabriel Reyes,” he says bluntly, “you are under arrest.”

 

“ _What_?” Gabriel hisses.

 

“Unless you can explain to me _right now_ why your entire division is dead, you’re under arrest until I figure out what to do with you." Jack has been so stressed for so long, building a bonfire out of UN politics and public appearances and the permanent lines etched into his forehead. Gabriel’s behaviour is the match that’s set it aflame, and Jack _knows_ his reaction is disproportionate but he can’t bring himself to care.

 

“Jack, don’t do this. You have to trust me -“

 

“You won’t tell me _anything_ anymore, Gabe, and you can’t expect me to just ignore that!” Jack snaps. “What do you expect me to _do_?”

 

Gabriel falls silent then, and for a second Jack thinks he’s finally going to open up. He stays quiet, though, and Jack nods. _Of course_.

 

“Fine. Have it your way,” he says.

 

 

 

 

Lena spends hours looking for Amélie, dodging out of the room as soon as possible. She wants no part of what the others are planning, even if the Blackwatch agents are indeed Talon; it’s not a fair fight for them, and that’s the thing she hates most. She scours the base and asks everyone she comes across about the Frenchwoman, but all she gets are negative replies. Barely anyone knew she was even in here in the first place, it seems. Lena’s heart drops steadily every minute that passes without finding Amélie, scenarios racing through her head at lightspeed. Each one is worse. than the last: she’s found her way back to Talon, she’s run somewhere she’ll never be found, she’s injured or hurt or lost. Lena tries to push the thoughts away.

 

Three and a half hours have gone by before Lena finally finds her. The ex-spider is perched on the top of the base, at the edge of the main roof. Her arms are wrapped around her legs as she stares out towards the city. Her skin is pale in the moonlight; looking at her, Lena can clearly see the shade of the Widowmaker.

 

“He is dead. Again,” Amélie says as Lena approaches, though she doesn’t move.

 

Lena takes a seat next to her, legs dangling over the edge. “I’m sorry,” she says.

 

Amélie doesn’t say anything for a long second.

 

“Are you okay?” Lena asks. She’s never dealt with any situation like this before, and she feels horribly out of her depth.

 

Amélie lets out a humourless laugh. “I am fine,” she says. “More than fine, in fact. I am... shocked, but that is all I feel. I should be feeling more. My husband is dead, I...”

 

“It’s okay, Amélie,” Lena says softly, looking over at her. “Don’t let anyone tell you what to feel. You’re your own person, and... I dunno. Not everyone feels the same way.”

 

Amélie pauses. “You’re right,” she admits. “It felt so wrong to be around him after what I did, and I do not feel like that anymore.”

 

Lena nods slightly. Zurich sparkles beneath them. “I get it. I don’t, uh... I have no idea where Emily is. I had a chat with Winston a while ago, and his explanation made me realise that she’s... basically nonexistent. I can’t get back to her, and we should have met by now, so... I’ve really never been in a relationship with her.” Lena’s voice goes quiet as she finishes, hesitating for a second. “It doesn’t feel as bad as it should, though. Can’t figure out why, but... do you know what I mean?”

 

“It makes perfect sense,” Amélie replies, and Lena doesn’t even have time to think of an answer before suddenly the other woman is _kissing_ her.

 

Lena’s taken aback, frozen for a second before she pulls back. “Amélie, what -?”

 

“I do not know what I feel,” Amélie interrupts, cutting her off with an even tone. “I cannot make sense of.... many of my emotions, but the only ones I am certain of are my feelings for _you_ , Lena.”

 

Lena feels her face flush, heart pumping faster. “Are you sure?” she asks softly, the phrase loaded with questions.

 

“I’ve never been more sure in my life,” Amélie says, and kisses her again.

 

Lena leans into it, linking her arms around Amélie’s neck as they kiss. It feels right, somehow, and Lena’s worries fade from the front of her mind as she realises she’s kissing a _bloody hot girl_ , and, more importantly, her friend.

 

“This has been coming for a long time, I think,” Amélie whispers against her. Lena smiles.

 

“About time, love,” she says.

 

 

 

 

 

After he leaves Sombra defeated in the training range, Jesse finds his way to the Blackwatch quarters. His allies’ bunks are eerily empty, all their possessions vanished. A pang of regret goes through him at the sight of Sangre’s stripped bed. He wishes he had an opportunity to explain, even just to say goodbye; she started to mean a lot to him back when he first joined Blackwatch. He’ll miss her.

 

“Jesse?”

 

He turns around to see Genji standing in the doorway. “Hey,” he greets. He’d sent a comm message to Genji, asking him to meet here.

 

“Everyone left,” the cyborg says. His tone is even, though Jesse can hear the implied question. _Why?_

 

Jesse casts his gaze around the room. “Guess I owe you an explanation, huh?”

 

“Yes. You do,” Genji answers. He approaches Jesse, who sprawls on the floor with his arms resting over his knees. Genji sits opposite, cross-legged.

 

Jesse takes a deep breath, and runs through everything that’s happened and (will happen? has happened?), from the disasters that befall Overwatch to the explosion at Zurich and the deaths that follow. He tells Genji about the second Crisis, the rise of Talon and the recall effort, and how the five of them got sent back in time. He ends with Gérard, and the disbanding of Blackwatch. Genji listens intently and silently, only speaking once Jesse’s finished.

 

“So,” Genji begins, tone carefully neutral, “you are from the future. You have travelled back in time.”

 

Jesse nods. “Yeah. Yeah, exactly.”

 

“And I am still... _this_? In the future?”

 

He pauses. “Yeah.”

 

Genji is silent for a second. “I suppose I am a little more comfortable.”

 

“Yeah, you definitely are,” Jesse tells him. “You stick with this whole new green look.”

 

Genji hums briefly. “And we are the only two remaining Blackwatch agents?”

 

“...Yeah. Until we get Sombra in.”

 

“The Los Muertos terrorist.”

 

“She’s changin’, Genji, she’s honestly tryin’. Just like I did.”

 

Genji’s visor flashes, and Jesse finds himself thankful for the years of practice he’s had reading Genji’s expression while masked. “If you’re sure. And what do you plan to do with Amélie Lacroix?”

 

Jesse sighs. “Fuck if I know. Can’t figure her out. Gabe seems to trust her, though.”

 

Genji looks like he’s about to reply, but before he can speak Jesse’s comm buzzes urgently. He pulls it out.

 

_ANA AMARI: Jesse, are you there?_

_ANA AMARI: Get down to the holding cells as quick as you can. We need you._

 

Jesse frowns, worry jolting through him.

 

“What is it?” Genji asks, mask flashing again.

 

“Ana wants me to go to the holdin’ cells,” Jesse says, standing up. “I don’t know why.”

 

Genji stands smoothly, the sound of servos whirring barely-discernible. “Let’s go.”

 

Jesse hesitates for a second. Genji already knows everything; it’s not like any damage can be done by bringing him along. “Alright.”

 

They stride out of the Blackwatch quarters, Genji following silently just behind Jesse as he navigates down to the lower levels. His wordlessness is a stark contrast to the easy conversation that Sangre provided last time Jesse came to the cells to see Sombra. Vaguely, he wonders if Sombra’s been caught around the base; Jack would probably freak out at seeing her; maybe that’s why he’s here.

 

Ana is there when they reach the entrance to the cells, arms crossed and expression distressed. “Jesse,” she says immediately as she spots him, pushing herself off the wall. She gives Genji a scrutinising glance. “I suppose you know too?”

 

Genji nods. “I do,” he answers.

 

Ana doesn’t waste time replying; she turns back to Jesse. “Listen to me. Jack has arrested Gabriel.”

 

Shock rips through Jesse. His eyes widen. “What? _Shit_.”

 

Ana shushes him, looking furtively back over her shoulder through the doorway. Jesse cranes his neck to see Jack standing in the monitoring room, someone with bright blonde hair next to him: Angela, maybe. “From his perspective, Gabriel has had his entire division and right-hand man killed, has disbanded the rest of Blackwatch, and has information about Talon operations that he should _not_ have. We need to change his mind as soon as we can, Jesse, before he gets anybody from an outside authority to deal with the situation. Gabriel will never see the light of day if the truth comes out, and we’ll all be arrested right along with him for aiding and abetting a criminal. We _have_ to get Jack on our side. Do you understand?” Ana asks, looking him straight in the eyes.

 

“Yeah, but the hell makes you think Jack’ll trust me? He’s _always_ hated me, Ana -“

 

“Jack Morrison is a hard-headed idiot who would rather never speak to you again than admit he was wrong about you,” Ana says bluntly. “He respects you, Jesse. He’ll listen. He has to.”

 

Jesse glances at the Strike-Commander. His face is twisted in a strange mixture of anger, confusion and _worry_. He doesn’t want to do this, and it’s plain on his expression. “Alright,” Jesse agrees, and Ana squeezes his arm before turning round and entering the holding cells.

 

“Follow my lead, _abn_ ,” she says to him over her shoulder.

 

Jack and Angela’s heads both jerk up as Ana pushes the door open. Angela is holding a clipboard, 

 

“Ana,” Jack greets simply.

 

“Where is he?” Ana asks, lips thinned, and Jack reaches over to the desk panel to press a button. The wall to their right lightens and clears, and then they have a perfect view of Gabriel sitting in the corner of the cell with his head against the wall.

 

Jesse eyes Angela. By now, there’s almost no point keeping it secret; still, though, he’ll minimise the number of people in the know if he can. “What’re you doin’ here, Angie?”

 

“Jack asked me to run some tests Gabriel to make sure it’s really... him,” Angela replies, casting a glance at the still commander.

 

“There’s no need for that,” Ana says tersely. Jack frowns. “We have your explanation.”

 

He stares at Ana. “You’re involved in... whatever he’s been doing?”

 

“Yes,” she answers, casting a glance at Jesse. “We both have.”

 

Jack’s eyes narrow, and he glares at Jesse. “Start talking.”

 

Jesse looks at Angela, about to attempt to ask her to leave, when Jack preemptively interrupts him.

 

“If you’re going to kick Angela out, think again. She can hear whatever you’re going to tell me.”

 

Jesse resists the urge to curse. “Fine,” he says.

 

Ana takes the lead on this explanation. “Gabriel travelled back in time. This is him from eight years in the future.” Jack scowls, opening, his mouth, but Ana cuts him off. “I’m being serious, Jack. This is the truth.”

 

“Five of us came. Me and Gabe, Lena, Amélie Lacroix and Sombra. Don’t think you know her,” Jesse adds.

 

Jack looks between the two of them, blanching. Angela’s mouth hangs slightly open. “Oh, God. You’re serious.”

 

Jesse nods. “Overwatch fucks up in the future, Jack. Literally explodes, and you and Gabe die in the blast. Blackwatch is all fuckin’ Talon. We already think Ana’s dead by that point, and Gérard’s dead too. Amélie kills him after she gets abducted by Talon, who rise up after Overwatch dies and start a second fuckin’ Omnic Crisis,” he continues, ignoring the paleness rising in Jack’s face. “You and Ana come back to the living then, and Gabe comes back as a monster ghost or whatever the fuck he is. Joins Talon. Winston tries to get Overwatch back together, but most people are either dead, in prison or want fuck all to do with us. We try hard to fix shit but it doesn’t _work_ because there ain’t nowhere near enough of us. So once we all woke up here and realised we had _another chance_ of course we took it. We’ve stopped everythin’ Talon did before it happened, and we took down Blackwatch before they fuckin’ blew us up first. The _only_ thing we’ve done wrong is lettin’... lettin’ Gérard die.”

 

Jesse takes a breath, looking down. Ana carries on. “This isn’t the exact same Gabriel, Jack, you’re right. But he’s trying to fix things and protect us, just like he’s always done. You have to let him go.”

 

“You just told me he’s Talon in the future, Ana. _Gabriel_. God, I... I can’t even imagine him doing that, but I can’t just let it slide,” Jack protests.

 

“What would you do if you were him?” Jesse asks. “Constant pain. Everyone he loves fuckin’ left him. Been betrayed so many times. Of course he went to the only people who’d take him in.”

 

Jack falls silent.

 

Angela is staring at Jesse, face slightly paled. “What happened to the present versions of you?” she asks quietly.

 

Jesse opens his mouth, about to reply, when it hits him. “I... I don’t know.”

 

Angela’s lips thin, and she looks down as she nods briefly.

 

Jack looks to his left, staring at the motionless Gabriel. “How do I know he won’t betray us, Ana?”

 

Ana shakes her head, giving him a rueful smile. “You just have to trust him, Jack.”

 

The Strike-Commander doesn’t respond, and Ana turns around. _Come on_ , she mouths to Jesse, gesturing for Angela and Genji to follow too. Angela looks shellshocked, and Genji moves to lay a hand on her arm as they walk out ahead of Jesse and Ana. Guilt boils in Jesse’s stomach for the first time; from her perspective, he’s snatched the place of Angela’s best friend. Her Jesse’s gone because of him.

 

“What do we do now?” he asks. Their secret might as well no longer be a secret. Gabriel is still locked up. The group is splintering.

 

“We’ve done all we can for now. We just have to wait for Jack to come around,” Ana says softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

 

When Jesse looks back, Jack is still staring into the cell.


	10. Chapter 10

The cell door swishes open, and Gabriel looks up. Blue fabric swings in the doorway, equally blue eyes meeting his. It’s Jack. Gabriel lets out a huff.

“You here to add cuffs, or what?” he asks sardonically.

“Jesse and Ana told me everything,” Jack says in reply, voice quiet.

Gabriel snaps to attention, a combination of gratefulness and confusion suddenly swirling through him. “Everything?” He has no way of telling if Jack just believes he’s been told the truth, or if Jesse did indeed spill the _whole_ fucking bag of beans.

“Yeah. You’re... from the future,” Jack answers. “It’s hard to believe.”

Gabriel’s head thunks back against the wall. “Got that right.”

Jack sighs, and from the rustling sound that follows Gabriel assumes he’s sliding down the wall. “I just... why didn’t you tell me, Gabe?”

“Thought you would kill me,” Gabriel replies, staring at the ceiling. “Or throw me in a cell, just like this shit.”

Jack is quiet for a second. “I might have. I don’t know,” he admits. “It would have been a hell of a lot better than finding out like this, though.”

“Can you blame me for keeping it secret?” Gabriel says bitterly.

“No. I can’t,” Jack answers. “I can’t,” he repeats, quieter.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Gabriel tells him. He is, too. It’s not something he likes to admit, but he’s committed so many wrongs over the years that he has an obligation to apologise: if not to Jack, to the God he grew up believing in. “I never meant it to turn out this way.”

“What happened to us, Gabriel?” Jack asks. “Where you’re from?”

Gabriel says nothing for a moment, before he speaks. “Honest answer? I don’t know. It just... all the shit built up and we lost track of us. We let personal stuff get in the way of the bigger picture and then it got too late, and there was nothing we could do. Not that we _wanted_ to do anything, by that point.”

Jack is silent. He takes an audible breath. “I... I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

“It’s not you, Jackie. This you hasn’t done anything.” Gabriel is so _tired_ of being angry at this version of Jack. Soldier: 76 is a bastard, warped by pressure and trauma, but Strike-Commander Morrison hasn’t made any of the mistakes he has.

“I’m the same person as your Jack, though, aren’t I? If you hadn’t come back I would have done exactly what he did -“

“Hey,” Gabriel says suddenly, looking straight at him, stopping Jack in his tracks. “Don’t do that. You’re overthinking things.”

Jack gives him a half-smile. “Sorry.”

Gabriel laughs. “It’s okay, Jack. You don’t need to apologise. I fucked up worse than you ever did," he adds wryly.

“You’re here, though,” Jack points out. “It was... hard for me to accept it, but I understand what you went through. I’m not surprised you did what you did.”

“If this is a pep talk, it’s not working,” Gabriel says drily.

Jack rolls his eyes, a grin tugging at his mouth. “I’m not _done_ , Gabe,” he defends. “I just... you got another chance when you came back here, and you actually decided to make everything right. You’re making up for your mistakes.”

Gabriel feels something soften inside him. “...Thanks, Jackie,” he murmurs.

The door flies open with a bang and Jesse appears in the doorway, in full Blackwatch armour, eyes wide, breathing heavy. “Talon are attackin’,” he says urgently, and Gabriel shoots to his feet.

“ _What_?”

“Doomfist has a fuckin’ army and he’s about to attack Zurich, Gabe, we gotta go -“

“This isn’t _right_ ,” Gabriel protests. “We don’t know what’s coming up anymore! This never happened before.”

Jesse shakes his head. “We never dismantled Blackwatch before, either. This is all new now, Gabe, we gotta be careful. And we need to go.”

Jesse takes off then, and Gabriel and Jack sprint after him. Gabriel’s heart thuds in his ears, thoughts racing. He doesn’t know what’s coming. He has no way of protecting the others. _Fuck_.

“Everyone else is kittin’ up,” Jesse yells. “We spotted them on radar, and we’re goin’ in the dropship to intercept them before they get to the city and do fuck knows how much damage!”

Gabriel swears. “Who’s defending -?”

“We got Rein and Torb organisin’ defences, and Genji’s stayin’ behind,” Jesse shouts back. “I got your stuff ready inside, here -”

They round the corner to the kit room, Jesse nearly skidding past the doorway in his haste. Ana is checking her rifle meticulously while she shares spare kit with Amélie, who’s next to an energized-looking Lena. Angela straps first aid tools into her secure pouches while Sombra helps attach her Cadeceus wings properly at the doctor’s instruction. Jack strides forward and grabs the small pile of his things on the bench, namely his pulse rifle and a few biotic fields; Gabriel picks up his twin shotguns, turning them over in his hands as adrenaline starts to course through his veins. Talon is daring to threaten his home and he is _ready_ to fight them.

“Hurry up!” Lena urges the group, and Sombra steps away from Angela, whose wings expand and rise slightly.

“ _Sí, sí_ , I’m done!” she protests, holding up her hands. “Let’s get to the ship already!”

With that Sombra sprints out of the room, closely followed by a rapidly-blinking Lena. Jack runs after them as Angela glides out of the room and Ana snaps the sniper rifle onto her back, looking determined.

“Are you ready, Gabriel?” she asks.

Gabriel smiles. “Fuck, yes,” he growls.

Jesse stuffs a collection of bullets into the capsules on his belt, slotting Peacekeeper into the holster at his side. “Amélie, you ready?” he asks, looking towards the Frenchwoman.

Amélie flicks Ana’s spare biometric visor down, nodding. “ _Oui_. Talon will not get past us.”

Ana nods at her, smiling. Amélie returns a small grin. “Then let’s go!”

Gabriel takes off towards the hangar, Jesse hot on his heels, Amélie and Ana beside them, and his heart thumps with purpose as he grins. Talon have _no idea_ what’s coming for them.

The dropship door is down by the time they arrive, and Jack and Angela are hanging out the back to grab onto the stragglers. Lena yells from the cockpit for the others to hurry, and takes off as soon as Gabriel, the last boarder, has thrown himself up over the rising door and into the main body of the dropship.

“Are you okay?” Jack asks, checking him over.

Gabriel nods. “I’m good. You ready to fuck these guys over?”

Jack smirks. “You bet I am.”

The dropship ride is climatically short, only a couple of minutes before they’re just inside Zurich’s outskirts. Gabriel is first to jump out when they touch down, striding around the ship to face the Talon contingent.

Hundreds of soldiers are marching towards Zurich and Overwatch, all dressed in identical armor and ghost-white helmets. Talon have pulled out every single stop for this attack: it’s their final win-or-die, and it _shows_.

“Shit,” someone breathes behind Gabriel, and he has to admit he agrees.

“We need to keep them from getting further into the city,” he instructs, falling back into his commanderial mindset. “Ana, Amélie, find whatever high ground you can. Take out other snipers and high-value targets as a priority. Sombra, join them in taking down specialist soldiers. Dart in and out, don’t get hit. Jesse, we’re on crowd control. Don’t let them get into Zurich. Angela, focus Jesse and I unless someone else needs healing. Lena, Jack, I need you to evacuate the immediate surroundings. If they do break through, I want _zero_ civilian casualties. Clear?”

A chorus of acknowledgement goes up, and then Gabriel is sprinting towards the soldiers and raising his shotguns, the feeling that makes him _alive_ racing through his veins. He sprints towards the soldiers, ignoring the wave of shouts that go up as they’re noticed. He joins the fray and starts shooting, Talon soldiers yelling incomprehensibly. Gabriel carves a path forward, higher and higher as the crowd around him starts to thin, bodies falling as he shoots without mercy. He smacks a Talon goon across the face and they drop like a weight to the ground, and suddenly there’s nobody near him. He realises he’s gone a significant way up the mountain overlooking Zurich, Uetliberg, and Gabriel turns; the Talon forces are converging on Zurich, forcing Overwatch back and into the outskirts of the city. He curses, and sees a distant figure grapple to the top of a roof. _Amélie_. The sniper flips in mid-air and zooms in, letting off a shot that snaps through the air before she lands. Gabriel jerks to attention and sprints back towards the fighting.

The Talon forces are more than halved, but they’re pushing forward relentlessly. Gabriel catches a glimpse of _Friesenberg_ lettered across the building Ana’s perched on before he plunges into the fray again. He stays roughly in place this time as he fights, using all the dirty tactics he knows. Someone comes at him and he smacks them away with a shotgun, using the turn to aim and blast away another soldier. He rams an elbow into the enemy coming up behind him and stamps down on their foot as hard as he can, hearing a cry as bones break.

A shot cracks through the air, and then a horribly familiar scream. Gabriel’s head whips back, to the roof behind him, and he sees Ana falls back, out of Gabriel’s sight, rifle abandoned, blood arcing across the light of the sun. Dread streaks through him.

“Ana!” Gabriel roars, whipping his shotgun across the nearest Talon soldier. Fuck, _fuck_ -

Angela lets out a small cry as she sees the fallen sniper, shooting towards her on mechanical wings. Gabriel hears Lena blinking towards them, the Brit darting through the Talon forces to get to Ana.

“We have her!” Angela yells. “Lena, get us to the dropship as fast as you can!”

Gabriel’s heart plummets as Lena blinks, clutching both Angela and Ana’s hands. She stumbles slightly as she reappears, determination plastered on her face, and then she’s off, vanishing and darting between the Talon soldiers back into Zurich and out of Gabriel’s sight.

“Fuck,” he hisses, but Ana is in safe hands and there’s nothing he can do.

Something slams into his leg and pain spurts, and Gabriel curses as he spins and blasts the Talon soldier behind him away. His muscle is already knitting and healing from the gunshot wound, and Gabriel pinches the skin around it to coax the bullet out. It drops and he lunges forward, elbowing a soldier in the face and shooting another point-blank. The enemies before him part, just for a second; a familiar gauntlet glows, and suddenly gold metal winks through the crowd. Gabriel snarls. _Doomfist_.

He sweeps through the obstacles between him and Doomfist like a tornado of destruction, losing himself in the blasts of his shotguns and the screaming and the metallic bangs. He barrels through the waves of enemies without mercy, dispatching those in his way ruthlessly. He glimpses the Doomfist close, three bodies away, when something leaps onto his back and Gabriel twists and shakes to get them off. His attacker falls and he shoots, eliciting a scream, and then someone else is running towards him with a long knife. Gabriel grabs the knife and stabs it into his own belt as he punches the soldier in the face, blasting him once he’s down for good measure.

“Gabriel Reyes. The man who caused all of this,” comes a voice, and Gabriel twists round to see Akande Ogundimu striding towards him. The eponymous gauntlet is secured to his wrist, sparkling in the light, bulky and dangerous. “Here to fight? I hope you came prepared.” Akande smirks, and Gabriel bares his teeth. He snarls and barrels into Akande, knocking him flat on the ground and pressing twin shotguns to his head.

“Checkmate, motherfucker,” he hisses, looking down. “You shouldn’t have messed with Overwatch. Can you see your men dying around us? _I win_.”

"You’re mistaken," Akande spits, and Gabriel watches as his expression twists. "You may set us back, but Talon will always rise again. We will destroy you every time. You’ve stopped our plans now, but you will _not_ meddle again. We are here to _wipe you out_ before you can disrupt us any further.”

He jerks underneath Gabriel then, throwing the supersoldier off his chest, and surges upwards. Gabriel hisses as Akande strikes the shotguns out of his hands, advancing. He snatches the Talon goon’s knife from his belt, long and serrated, and swipes at the air. Akande doesn't even flinch as the blade slices his chest, rage burning in his eyes. Gabriel's mouth twists and he leaps forward, but Akande dodges and grabs his throat, gripping it in his fist and lifting Gabriel high.

"You see, Reyes, I have the power now. I can do anything I want and you have no ability to stop me." Akande's voice hardens. "You cannot stop progress!"

Gabriel's eyes water, the air slowly leaving his lungs as he struggles in Akande's crushing grip. Normally, this position would pose no problem: but with the gauntlet, the man is ten times as strong as he can defend against. Pain shoots through Gabriel's body, and he grits his teeth as he tries to resist the creeping blackness on the edge of his vision. He turns his head.

Lena is gone, running Ana back with Angela to stabilise her in the dropship. Jesse is downing the last of the soldiers, shooting them with ruthless efficiency. Gabriel spots Sombra sneaking around them, materialising to pepper the larger, more heavily-armoured men with bullets before disappearing again. Jack is sprinting around the battlefield, sending thudding pulse rounds into enemies. Amélie is picking off fellow snipers from the rooftops with vicious accuracy. Gabriel stares, trying to memorise what they look like. They've come so far, but Gabriel has known since Gérard died, since Ana lost her eye again, that he couldn't escape his fate. This might be the one chance he has to fix their faces in his mind before he dies: or, worse, turns into a monster once more. Akande watches his gaze skim across them: his friends, his _family_ , and his face twists into a cruel grin.

"I could injure you, Reyes. I could hurt you until you begged me to stop." Akande tells him, superiority undertoning his words. "Or... I could hurt them."

"You... mother _fucker_ ," Gabriel hisses, voice broken and hoarse. Akande squeezes tighter, and black spots across his vision.

"You will live with the knowledge that you killed him, Reyes. And you cannot do _anything about it_."

Gabriel's eyes slide to his allies on the field, skipping over Amélie, Sombra, _Jack_ -

“You should thank me, really.” Akande laughs. “Only through conflict do we evolve. I am making you so much stronger.”

The Doomfist unclenches and releases and Gabriel crumples to the ground, gasping as he sees Akande raise his flesh hand. _Bullets in the knuckles,_ Gabriel realises, and with panic he tracks the gesture in slow-motion as it swings up and up and past Amélie, past Sombra, sliding right by Jack, and ice shudders through him as Akande aims straight at Jesse’s back.

“No,” Gabriel wheezes, trying to push himself up. “Don’t... fucking _dare_ -“

“Jesse McCree. We had a plan to recruit him, in fact, to stop his talents being wasted. It’s a travesty you kept him on such a short leash, though I suppose it’s no matter now."

"McCree!" Gabriel yells, stumbling towards him, voice cracking and failing, and Jesse turns round slowly.

Too slowly.

There's a mechanical clank from behind him. Gabriel leaps, and time slows. Akande fires.

Pain explodes across his back and he screams, shrapnel piercing his body and ripping across his torso. Distantly, he hears Jesse cry out, and someone barks something that sounds like his name. Agony streaks through him as the world speeds up again, and then Akande is shouting something and he can hear gunfire. The last thing he sees is blood, slick and scarlet, spilling across a black serape.

He hits the ground, and everything goes dark.


	11. Chapter 11

Screams rip through the air and Sombra spins round, activating her camo on instinct. Horror jolts through her at the sight of Gabriel thudding to the ground, Jesse trapped beneath him, blood spreading steadily out from under them. From across the square, Jack lets out a roar. Akande takes a step back as the supersoldier sprints towards him, and from the way his visor glows orange Sombra recognises its aimbot feature. Jack unleashes his rifle on Akande as Sombra snarls, peppering the last group of soldiers near her with bullets. They crumple and then Amélie appears, having leapt off the building, landing like a predatory cat and stalking towards Akande with her sniper rifle zoomed and locked.

“ _Adieu_ , you bastard,” she hears Amélie mutter under her breath, before she pulls the trigger. Akande lets out a choking sound and Sombra averts her gaze as he falls to his knees, sprinting over to Gabriel and Jesse instead, heart pounding.

“ _Mierda_ ,” she swears, trying to pull Gabriel up. “Come on, Gabe, work with me!”

“Help -“ comes a weak voice, and Sombra grabs uselessly at Gabriel’s arm. Jesse’s trapped and struggling under him.

“Fuck, Gabe -“ Jack curses from beside her. “We need to get him off Jesse.”

“No _shit_!” Sombra snarks, trying to lever her hands under Gabriel’s back. Jack holds his other side, and Sombra meets his eyes. “Three, two, one -“

They lift simultaneously and Sombra nearly lets go from the sudden, crushing weight. She grits her teeth as she strains to lift Gabriel, muscles protesting, and then suddenly he’s off Jesse and Jack is laying him down on the ground. Sombra turns her attention back to the cowboy, and shock hits her like a freight train.

Jesse’s left arm is bloody, ragged, missing from the elbow down. Sombra breathes in sharply: the injury is terrifyingly similar to his old one.

“What?” Jack asks, and Sombra just shakes her head. The Strike-Commander looks over, spotting Jesse as his eyes widen, and hisses out a curse.

The sound of blinking reaches her ears and Sombra looks up to see Lena darting towards them, horror on her face, holding onto Angela. Amélie is running towards them too, everyone crowding round. Sombra catches Amélie’s gaze, and the older woman nods. Akande’s gone.

“No!” Lena cries out. “What happened?”

“ _Gott_ , this is bad,” Angela murmurs, staring down. “Jack, I need you to deploy a biotic field for Gabriel. Check his breathing is unobscured.” As she talks, Angela produces a tight wad of fabric from her first aid supplies. She uncurls it and wraps it around Jesse’s arm, pulling hard. Jesse lets out a strangled cry.

“No, no, don’t -“ he protests.

“It’s alright, Jesse,” Angela reassures him, even as she yanks tighter and Jesse’s back arches. “You’re alright. It’s okay.” Sombra watches, captivated as her hands fly around the injury, knotting the fabric in an expert tourniquet.

“Angela,” comes Jack’s rough voice. Sombra turns her attention to him: he’s staring at Gabriel with utter disbelief. “Angela, I need you to help me.”

“What’s wrong?” Angela asks, picking up her staff. The end glows with bright light, and she points it towards Jesse; the light streams out and Jesse lets out a slight sigh.

“I can’t find a pulse,” Jack says, and his voice is so deceptively calm that for a second Sombra swears she’s misheard.

“You _what_?” she asks incredulously, moving over towards him.

She presses her fingers against Gabriel’s wrist, holding her breath for a second. She waits. Sombra adjusts her positioning, changing the angle of her fingers slightly. She waits, again. She feels nothing.

“Oh, _Dios_ ,” Sombra breathes.

Angela’s face is slack as she stares at Gabriel‘s motionless body. Her eyes go wide. “Someone hold this,” she breathes, and Lena darts forward in silence to grab Jesse’s tourniquet and hold it tight. Jesse groans as the pressure fluctuates, but Angela is already scrambling towards Gabriel.

Angela fiddles with her staff, and when she pushes down a new stream of soft light flows towards Gabriel. She seems to let out a breath as it arcs towards his body. At the last moment, though, the beam curves and bends towards Jack, and it latches onto him. Visible shock crosses his face, and Angela goes pale.

“That can’t be right,” she whispers. The light vanishes and reappears, attaching to Sombra this time. Warmth fills her, a strange feeling of comfort overtaking her senses, and then suddenly it leaks away and the world dims once more. Angela presses her hand to her mouth.

“What?” Jack asks, eyes wary. “What does that mean?”

“My equipment is configured to reach living organisms only. If the beam is not latching onto Gabriel then... he doesn’t qualify as one.”

Cold slams into Sombra’s core. She stares at Gabriel, his face scarred, his expression slack. “ _Mierda_ ,” she whispers.

Jack is shaking his head. “Gabe, _no_ ,” he mutters. Out of the corner of her eye, Sombra sees Amélie bow her head, and Lena looks distraught.

“Fuck - Gabe -“ Jesse forces out, wheezing. Angela seems to come back to herself, and reattaches the Cadeceus beam to him.

“What do we do?” Sombra asks to nobody. She can’t take her eyes off Gabriel’s corpse. “What do we do now?”

Angela stills for a second before looking up suddenly, a gleam behind her eyes. “I have been trialling restorative technology, using nanites to -“

Amélie’s head snaps up as Jesse forces out a protest. “Angie, don’t - fuck, don’t do it!” He breaks off with a yelp as Lena readjusts her grip, and the Brit winces and apologises quietly.

“I might be able to save him!” Angela reiterates, and Sombra feels tension roll off Jack in waves. “I have to try.”

“Do it,” Jack orders, just as Sombra speaks.

“Wait! Don’t,” she says quickly, and Jack snaps his head round to glare at her.

“Excuse me? We have a chance to _save_ Gabriel, and you don’t want to take it?” he hisses.

Amélie’s voice is quiet. “It doesn’t work.”

Jack draws back slightly. “What?”

Sombra sighs, and turns to the doctor. “In our time, you used nanites to save Gabriel. You got it _wrong_ , and he didn’t come back properly.”

“That’s not possible,” Angela protests. “I have tested them on other subjects -“

“You didn’t test against SEP physiology,” Sombra says, recalling what was in the Oasis file, and Angela falters.

“If the choice is death or Reaper,” Amélie says softly, “Gabriel would choose death every time.”

Silence falls across the group, the only sound Jesse’s laboured breathing. Lena bites her lip and looks down. Jack and Angela wear matching expressions of varying degrees of uncertainty.

Sombra takes a breath. “I have the solution. I think.”

Everyone turns to look at her as one. Jack’s eyes are narrowed. “How?”

“You got the information anyway? Bloody hell,” Lena swears. “That’s what we were trying to stop them finding in the first place, before we all got sent back,” she adds, for the benefit of the others.

Sombra smirks. “Sorry, _pobrecita_. Anyway, I only saw a glimpse, but... I think I can remember most of it.”

“What if you are wrong?” Amélie asks.

Sombra gives her a half-smile, shrugging slightly. “That’s the risk.”

“What is it?” Angela asks.

“Ah, yeah. Those nanites have a self-sustaining system, right?” Sombra asks. Angela nods, confirming it. “They’re calibrated to use organic material as fuel. The problem is you didn’t exclude Gabe himself from that category.”

Angela’s face pales as the consequences dawn on her, and she glances at Gabriel with horror. “ _Gott_. He must have been in agony.”

Sombra nods. “Yeah.”

“How could I have made such a mistake?” the doctor murmurs, running a hand through her hair.

“Hey, it’s okay, Ange,” Lena reassures. “You can avoid that this time. Right?”

“Yes, but I’d need access to the nanites’ base coding,” Angela points out, running a hand up the Cadeceus staff. “I can’t get to that unless I’m in my laboratory -“

Sombra holds up a hand towards the staff, tapping the holographic pad that appears in front of her fingers. They fly across the interface, and suddenly she swipes her hand across the air in front of her and a screen appears. Angela seems transfixed as the nanites’ inner workings splay across the display.

“I can change it from here,” Sombra tells her. “Just tell me what to do.”

Angela raises her eyebrows. “Wow. That is... incredibly advanced technology.” At Sombra’s look, she shakes her head. “Right. The calibration settings are under _SSM_settings._ ”

The doctor guides her to a small .config file in the recesses of the nanites’ directory. There’s one tiny line in there that specifies not to use normal body cells, and they edit it to include SEP-altered cells too. The process takes around three minutes, and all the while Jack is staring, taut and tense, at Gabriel’s body. Jesse’s stabilised further with the Caduceus staff helping him, and Amélie has at some point moved to sit beside Lena.

“Done,” Sombra announces, closing all her displays with a theatrical flourish of her fingers.

Angela takes a breath and presses down with two fingers on the middle portion of her staff. A small panel unlatches and she slides it back, taking out a tiny black dial. “Here they are,” she says softly. “Jack, do I...?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters. His gaze doesn’t leave Gabriel. “ _God_ , Angela, I don’t know.”

“What if it goes wrong again?” Lena asks hesitantly, voicing what they’re all thinking.

“It _shouldn’t_ ,” Angela says. “But... that’s what I thought before, too.”

Sombra makes a face. “We fixed the problem. Unless there’s another one we don’t know about, the tech is safe.”

“Sombra,” Amélie cuts in suddenly. “Do you have an EMP?”

The hacker pats her waist. “Yup. Small one.”

Amélie turns to Angela. “Would that disable the nanites before they bond with Gabriel?”

“I suppose they would, yes,” Angela confirms, nodding.

The Frenchwoman nods. “Then we monitor him. If they go wrong, Sombra disables them immediately.”

Jack says roughly, “Do it.”

Angela glances at him, and he nods. “Okay,” she murmurs. She places the black disc on Gabriel’s chest, detaching his chestplate to allow access, and taps it in an obscure staccato. She steps back, and the others follow suit instinctively. Jack’s expression is creased as he stares intently at Gabriel.

For the first few seconds, nothing happens. Sombra is about to open her mouth when suddenly the dial spins, spilling outwards in a spiral pattern. Black leaches over Gabriel’s skin like a river, covering him. Lena lets out a small noise, taking another step further back. The nanites race and twist across his body, up and up, and Gabriel screams, arching as he disappears fully underneath the black sea.

“Turn it off,” Jack says, then, more urgently, “ _Turn it off_!”

Sombra fumbles at her belt, grabbing the EMP and twisting it open. It lights up and a pulse ripples outwards. Sombra staggers slightly, and curses as her senses dull. She’s forgotten it’s not her own device; it’s borrowed from the Overwatch armory, so it doesn’t differentiate between her mods and other tech.

The nanites stop moving, and Angela lets out a shallow breath; but before anyone can speak they start again, crawling their way over Gabriel until they’re back at full speed. Sombra swears, eyes going wide, and Jack looks like he’s been punched.

“ _Merde_ ,” Sombra hears Amélie hiss from behind her.

“Shit,” Jack curses, reaching for Gabriel before Angela snatches his arm.

“You can’t touch him, Jack! We can’t risk losing both of you; I have no _idea_ what will happen if you interfere!” she snaps, face pale as she stares at Gabriel. They’re both frozen, tense.

Gabriel writhes again under the nanites, letting out a strangled yell that cracks halfway through and fluctuates between Gabriel’s own voice and Reaper’s damaged growl. Amélie takes a sharp intake of breath, and Lena has one of her hands in Jesse’s and the other holding his tourniquet. The cowboy is silent, staring in shock. Sombra is numb; she’s powerless to stop what’s happening in front of her. It’s not a feeling she’s fond of.

The cry cuts off, and suddenly Gabriel seems to evaporate before their eyes. The nanites rise and curl into what looks like smoke, sweeping upwards and back down in a tornado-like cycle. The fog billows towards them and Sombra curses, stepping away. Blackness expands, covering her vision before it contracts rapidly and Gabriel reforms in front of them, whole, awake, staggering slightly.

Jack shakes off Angela’s grip. “Gabe! Gabe, talk to me!” he pleads, grabbing the commander’s arm.

Gabriel stares at him like he’s just woken up. “Jackie?” he asks, and his voice is his normal California-accented baritone. Sombra’s face breaks into a grin. “You brought me back,” he murmurs.

“God, Gabe, you scared me -“

Gabriel is already kissing him, arms wrapped tightly around Jack. Jesse lets out a weak whoop from the ground, and Lena laughs. Sombra can see her eyes are shining with unshed tears. A smile spreads across Amélie’s face.

“About time,” Sombra snarks, rolling her eyes and grinning. Without looking, Gabriel gives her the finger, and she laughs.

“It worked. It _worked_!” Angela repeats, smiling with relief.

Gabriel breaks off the kiss, and turns to her. “Thank you,” he says, and it’s the most genuine sentiment Sombra has ever heard from the man.

“Nice one, boss,” Jesse grinds out from the ground, grinning, and Gabriel’s expression drops as he sees him.

“ _Mierda_ , Jesse! I -“

“Nah, shut up. I’d be dead if not for you, Gabe, this - _fuck_ \- this ain’t your fault,” Jesse says with surety. The commander looks unconvinced.

Angela picks up her staff, still trailing light towards Jesse. “We need to get back to the dropship. Ana is in stasis, but I need to treat both of you as soon as I can to avoid further damage."

"How is she?" Jack asks warily. Gabriel ducks down, helping Jesse up. The cowboy grimaces.

Angela sighs. "Stable, but her injury is severe. I’m not sure how much of it I can correct. Are you alright to walk, Jesse? How bad is the pain?”

“Yeah. Ain’t as bad as the first time,” he says, though it’s through gritted teeth; Gabriel latches Jesse’s remaining arm around his neck, supporting him.

“I got you, kid. Let’s go.”

He sets off with Jesse, Jack on his other side, and Angela follows. Sombra walks parallel with Amélie, who’s next to Lena.

“Guys,” the hacker says, grinning. “All we need are explosions behind us and we’ll look awesome. _Pinche chida._ ”

Looking back on her words layer that day, Sombra will compliment herself wryly on her perfect timing. As soon as she finishes, there’s a small bang behind them. The group turns to see a Talon soldier’s body burst into flames, igniting the bodies beside it. There’s another boom and a rumble, and wildfire spreads as the first corpse _explodes_ , blowing a crumbling hole in the building nearest it.

“Oh my God,” Lena breathes.

“The bodies are rigged,” Gabriel murmurs. “Go. Go!”

They start to run, sprinting away from the square as the bangs intensify and the air shakes. Angela is shouting something, but Sombra can’t hear her over the noise. The dropship looms in front of them and they pile in, Lena blinking to the pilot’s seat and closing the doors as Sombra dives in. They take off immediately, and Lena pushes the engine to maximum power as she forces the vehicle off the ground. Sombra darts over to the window, pressing her face to the glass and looking down.

The square they fought in is destroyed, rubble littered across the ground. The buildings around are crumbling, flames licking at their walls. Smoke rises unsteadily as Lena flies higher, curling upwards. Even from here, it’s clear the blast radius is huge: much bigger than the area they and Talon were in. Sombra bites her lip, and looks away.

 

  
The Zurich Incident, as it comes to be called, results in fifty-seven civilian casualties and trillions of euros of property damage. Hundreds more civilians are displaced from their homes. The destruction of much of the Friesenberg quarter leads to an enquiry into the actions of Overwatch, and through inspection the dissolution of Blackwatch is uncovered by the United Nations. The scandal of its existence is splashed across the media for weeks afterwards, and leads Gabriel Reyes to be discharged dishonorably from the organisation. After he refuses to continue leading without Reyes as his second, Jack Morrison is barred from Overwatch. A unanimous vote causes the UN to shut the peacekeeping force down completely, scheduling a hearing for Morrison and Reyes for their culpability in the Zurich Incident. Attempts to restrain Reyes fail when he begins exhibiting inexplicable powers, and both men disappear twenty-eight hours before the trial, along with several high-level members of the organisation. Blackwatch, as a covert organisation, has multiple safehouses in addition to two major bases. Several of these buildings have locations known only to Reyes, and it’s theorised the now-fugitives have relocated to one of these houses; however, the UN give up when they discover there is no way to locate them.

On the coast of Mexico, near the city of Cancún, one such base exists. On the twelfth of January, 2070, Gabriel and Jack arrive. It takes three days for the other ex-members of Overwatch to join: Jesse, Lena, Amélie, Sombra, Ana, Angela, Genji, Winston, Reinhardt, Torbjörn. By that time, the large safehouse is set up and running. Overwatch is refounded secretly, under the radar, and they start operating out of Cancún as vigilantes. Ana’s sporting a new, bionic eye, Jesse a mechanical arm, and Gabriel's beginning to learn to control his now-manageable Reaper abilities. Though he’s able to turn to smoke still, it’s painless and working entirely as intended, a fact which comes as a relief to many of the others. Slowly, they begin expanding Overwatch, reaching out to a musician from Brazil, a monk from Nepal, a Chinese scientist, an ex-weightlifter, a captain’s daughter.

One by one, they answer the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that’s the end! thank you so much to everyone who read this story, left kudos, or commented. i had a blast writing this, so thank you all for giving it a chance. i hope you liked it!
> 
> as for the gang, this story’s not over quite yet. we still have the rest of talon’s allies to deal with, as well as the un - so stay tuned for the second part in the series! hit subscribe on the series this work belongs to if you want to be emailed when i start uploading the second instalment.
> 
> in the meantime, if any of you like mchanzo, feel free to check out “we’re not dead yet” (and its upcoming sequel for reaper76) at https://archiveofourown.org/works/16288436/chapters/38093906 .
> 
> thank you all again for reading, and i hope you stick around for part 2!


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